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Old 04-23-2012, 11:03 AM   #1
Marion Ette
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Froslass Marion's Haunted Short Story Collection

01. Nincada :: Quick, lighthearted piece regarding one of Marion's newest additions to the team.
02. The Old Gods :: First draft of a strange piece that reveals a bit of backstory...
03. The Transfer :: After being accidentally stabbed by Minerva's needle, Marion has been through a very difficult recovery process... but what is the true extent of the damage that has been done?
04. Fallen Angel :: How far will you fall to be with the one you love?
05. Lizzie :: Marion's attempt at getting the perfect birthday present for Balmund results in some unexpected consequences.
06. Some free RP posts I drafted for Kijo and Bia that didn't go anywhere.

Former Starter information (for posterity):

(In Red Cyber Ball)
Name: Minerva
Gender: Female
Level: 100
Held item:
Nature: Quirky
Ability: Insomnia
Attacks: Destiny Bond, Gunk Shot, Confuse Ray, Pain Split, Icy Wind, Knock off, Screech, Night Shade, Curse, Spite, Shadow Sneak, Will-o-Wisp, Faint Attack, Shadow Ball, Sucker Punch, Embargo, Snatch, Grudge, Trick, Thunderbolt, Magic Coat, Hidden Power - Fire, Firestream (SPECIAL)
Birthday: October 21st
Contest Points: +10 all
IQ: 01
Starter Pokemon. Met at Level 5.
Bio/Description: Originally Marion's favorite toy, this now-possessed puppet is Marion's best friend and confidante. Considered Marion's starter Pokemon, the two are completely inseparable and share a bond that cannot be broken. Minerva is very sarcastic, and often has a dark sense of humor when dealing with the world. She sometimes sees Marion as being naive and accuses her of keeping her head in the clouds, though when it comes to Marion's role as a trainer, Minerva respects her for the most part (though this was not the case originally). Minerva cannot deny that her current power is due in no small part to Marion's hard work and leadership; thus, Minerva is willing to put her life on the line for her trainer. Even so, when it comes to every other matter outside being a Pokemon trainer, Marion is not above criticism and light teasing in her eyes. Despite Minerva's comments, however, Marion rarely (if ever) seems to react. Shuppet's Pokedex entry reveals that it feeds on the negative feelings of other people, especially vengeance and malice. According to Minerva, when Marion was younger, her feelings of vengeance and anger were so great that the spirit of Minerva was drawn to her and fed off of those feelings until Marion couldn't feel them anymore. As a result, Marion cannot remember why she would have been so full of rage, and Minerva refuses to tell her, citing Marion's mental well-being as the reason.
As a Banette, Minerva is capable of powerful curses and hexes, which are her primary weapon in battle. This talent has inspired her to pursue various areas of witchcraft, including brewing potions and creating various poppit versions of her friends, which she may stick full of pins should any of them decide to double-cross her. She is able to use human speech, but has adopted a strange, unnerving stutter which has more to do with her love of scaring people than any sort of inability to adapt to human language. Of course, despite her frightening appearance and fearsome reputation, she is rumored to have a soft-spot deep inside... After all, she is stuffed with fluff, isn't she?

Reaching Level 100 has given Minerva's grudge unimaginable strength, but without more diligent training and better attempts to control this newfound power, her blind rage will destroy everything... including those that she loves.

Last edited by Marion Ette; 01-15-2018 at 11:48 AM.
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Old 04-23-2012, 11:03 AM   #2
Marion Ette
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In a small hotel room in Western Fizzytopia, a Banette waits for her trainer to return from a very important Pokemon trade. As she waits, she is crocheting little amigurumi figures of various people and Pokemon she has befriended in her travels. Though evening threatens to shortly give way into night, the Banette seems to enjoy working with very little light in the room. Sitting on a small chair beside various colorful balls of yarn, she works diligently and masterfully on finishing what appears to be a Scizor with determined, stoic felt-and-button eyes. Finally, after what seems like many hours of work, the Banette sets down her crochet needle and admires the mini Scizor. The Banette gently lifts herself from the seat with the doll, and, seemingly entering a trance, dances around the hotel room with the doll, reciting a little rhyme in Banette language:

My little doll, my eyes and ears,
The thread that binds our hearts together,
May the cords grow strong as steel,
Whether you be bond or tether;

For should our threads stay tied as one,
This totem a protector stays;
But should a traitor you become,
May your mind, like weak yarn, fray.

So mote it be.


When the Banette finishes her chant and dance, she floats over to a crafting bin, presumably purchased for her by her trainer. The little bin has adorable depictions of Mareep and Flaafy prancing through flower-dotted fields, with the sun shining brightly above them. From this peaceful pastoral scene, the Banette pulls a tiny pin with a small, red heart for a head out of the bin, and slowly pushes the pin through the amigurumi doll’s chest, only stopping when the head of the pin is up against the doll’s thread-woven exoskeleton. The Banette gives the little amigurumi Scizor a hug after the piercing, then rummages for a big, black velvet bag. She drops the Scizor figure into the bag with a host of other figures and closes it. As it closes, the grudge-oriented Pokemon sighs and whispers, “May I never have to resort to vengeance,” as if the statement has been ritually repeated many, many times.

As this little ritual is going on, a little Duskull is perched on the hotel bed, completely absorbed in a book regarding systematic desensitization therapy. She excitedly chirps and dithers to herself as she reads, apparently quite enthralled by what she is reading. Eventually, she becomes so excited by a statement in the book that she cannot help but call over the other ghost-type; “Min! Min! Minnie! Minnie! Miiin-eeeeer-vaaaaaaaa~!”

As Minerva closes the bag, she pauses before finally turning her cloth head in the Duskull’s direction. Her tone seems slightly irritated. “Yes, Liliana?”

“Did you know that there are some humans who are so afraid of stuff that they’re afraid of even reading the word on the page? Like, if I were afraid of Whismurs, I could see the word ‘Whismur’ and FREAK out! Isn’t that so weird? People are SO weird, Min! How could you be that afraid of anything?” Liliana drops the book and floats over to Minerva’s velvet bag. “Oooooo, when are you gonna make one that looks like me? When? When?”

“Very soon, most assuredly.” Minerva’s tone is decidedly dark as she says these words. “I would not forget you.”

“Oh, I should hope not! I would be so very sad if you did!” Liliana puts her little hand-like appendages together and gives Banette a very sad expression, as if displaying her sorrow should Minerva forget about her. Minerva does not betray any hint of emotion regarding the little Duskull’s display. Even so, the Duskull continues to attempt to socialize; “Soooo, have you heard about the Nincada that’s joining our team? I’m excited to meet her!”

“Of course I’ve heard about her, you silly girl. I am the first to hear of everything. The sooner you understand that, the better.” Minerva glares at the Duskull, though she appears nonplussed by the Banette’s barely-controlled bitterness. “Gotcha, boss! I just wondered if you heard the part about her being afraid of snakes…”

“Yes. I gathered that’s why Marion let you borrow that book from the library…” Minerva points at the book that Duskull is so avidly reading. “This Nincada- Sakura, she’s named- is desperately afraid of all snakes, but particularly Sevipers. Apparently, it has something to do with-”

“Balmund’s Seviper! Yeah, I heard about that, and I want to help her out.” Liliana beams with excitement. “I’m going to treat her, and she’s going to be all better. Liliana, Master Psychologist, is on the case!”

“Don’t you need a license for… You know what? Never mind. You have fun with that.” Minerva floats back to her chair, and appears to be pulling balls of yarn from her crafting bin that match the color of Nincada’s eyes and shell. Duskull seems to be grinning underneath her skull-shaped mask. “I will! Just you wait and see! She’ll be all better soon!”

***

Roughly thirty minutes pass before the two ghost-type Pokemon sense the familiar aura of their trainer approaching the hotel lobby; though their room is a few floors above, their strong connection with her signals them immediately of her presence. Minerva stops her crocheting, though not before whispering a few words over the unfinished project, and puts her crafting supplies away. Meanwhile, Liliana is in a total dither; along with her therapy book, she has also taken out a large picture book of snakes as a means of acquainting the little Nincada to the idea that snakes are not as bad as she thinks; she flips through the pages rapidly, trying to find the “cutest,” most “non-threatening” of the snakes. She settles on a picture of a small garden snake, and floats around excitedly with the book. “Oooh, I can’t WAIT to start therapy! I wanna start RIGHT NOW!!”

“Were you a speed addict in a former life?”

“A what?” Liliana gives Minerva a confused look.

“Never mind…”

Liliana is so excited for her therapy sessions that she is phasing in and out of existence; essentially, the Duskull version of jumping up and down. As she does this, the book wobbles from being repeatedly dropped and picked up before falling, and Liliana does not notice that the pages have turned as a result of this activity.

As Liliana hears her trainer unlocking the door, she is so excited that she phases out of existence entirely. When the door opens, and the ghostly young woman appears in the doorframe with a little Nincada on her shoulder, Liliana cannot help but come up close and say hello to her new, dysfunctional friend. Phasing into existence right in front of the Nincada’s face, she completely forgets that she has been browsing the picture book… which now has a graphic picture of a giant Seviper biting down on a small Caterpie.

The scream is so loud that the entire hotel seems to reverberate with it. “NIN NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!!!” The poor little Nincada is on the ceiling within seconds, shuddering and murmuring to herself.

Liliana is so shocked by the reaction that she drops the book. Minerva, too, seems to have been startled, though not by the reaction so much as the yell itself… As Marion thinks about how to gently remove a terrified Nincada from the ceiling, she addresses the two ghosts with some measure of confusion. “Did you hear that?”

“It… it sounded like…” Liliana starts. “The words ‘protect me’ in ghost-type intonation,” Minerva finishes. She then adds, “But… but how can she speak in ghost intonation if she’s a bug? I thought Nincada was a bug-type language…”

“Fancy that. Perhaps they talk to their shell in a special dialect when they sense danger… Urge it to protect them from harm. Perhaps that relationship starts even before evolution… Fascinating!” Marion’s eyes light up with the possibility of making a new discovery regarding Nincada. She quickly remembers, however, that her newest Pokemon is currently in a bad state. “Oh, but poor Sakura is terrified… Liliana, I know it is the nature of Duskulls to enjoy scaring others, but please try to be more sensitive…”

“But… but…” Liliana looks completely dejected. Minerva floats over to the little Duskull, and gives her a soft pat on the head to attempt to console her; however, when Liliana looks up at her to say thank you, she reciprocates with her usual glare. Wouldn’t want to be perceived as soft, after all.

After eventually luring little Sakura down with a stack of homemade pancakes and the continued assurance that the picture book of snakes had been put away, Marion and her Pokemon enjoy a late-night breakfast feast, in celebration of their newest friend.

Last edited by Marion Ette; 07-09-2012 at 03:23 PM.
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Old 07-09-2012, 03:23 PM   #3
Marion Ette
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The Old Gods

My memories of life have become faded pictures on a dusty, stained landscape; images distorting with age, colors and shapes running together, becoming unrecognizable as time goes on. Eventually, the binding will wear thin, the covers will tear away and the entire book will crumble into nothingness... That is the way of things, is it not? Yet, even with a withered, maggot-chewed body that rots in an unmarked grave somewhere, my soul, and my memories, strangely persist. So, too, do the Old Gods.

Mother used to read the book to me when I was small, giving the gods strong, booming voices, while the goddess spoke in a calm, beautiful lilt, more ravishing and captivating than my Mother's plain voice has ever been, or ever would be. My favorite of them all was the goddess Athena, whose watercolor features I regarded as far more beautiful than the golden-haired Aphrodite, whom I found haughty and distant. Mother, of course, loved Persephone's dark hair and longing-filled eyes. As a child, I was the spitting image of the book's depiction, and Mother would laughingly call herself Demeter, joking that if I were ever dragged to the Underworld like the morose Goddess illustrated on the page, that she would come and save me. I would complain, sometimes quite bitterly, that I wished to be Athena instead... She never listened.

The year that Mother went missing was the year I began smoking, a foolish young woman tacitly convinced of her own immortality. Nervous hands shaking through piles of memories, I frantically dug The Old Gods out of storage and began reading, as if this tome from my childhood somehow held the key to where she had gone. The smoke of my cigarette filled the pages with its sickeningly comforting scent as I flipped through, over and over again, praying to each God on the page that Mother would be all right. When I finally reached Persephone's page, she was not the way I remembered her. Her lonely, cast-down expression was replaced with viciously focused eyes, staring directly at me from the gloomy landscape in which she was painted. Was my memory playing tricks on me? Was she always this... this angry? I closed the book in a hurry and took a deep drag of tar-filled smoke, desperately attempting to calm myself from the unfamiliar image.

In retrospect, Mother, too, did not return the way I remembered her... When I opened the door for her that fateful evening, expecting a warm smile and loving embrace, I met the gaze of a disturbed woman, looking out to an unreachable paradise while simultaneously trapped in her own Hell. I have tried to forget what happened next - her rage, her insane blabbering, her vicious attack - but it is not the nature of my kind to forget these things. Our anger defines who we are. The memories live forever.

When I finally opened up the book again, it was not with my own hands, but those of a precocious little child that had taken a liking to asking me for new stories. She loved Athena just as much as I did when I was her age. The little child turned up to me with big, pale eyes; "She's so pretty! I want to be just like her," she said with a big smile.

"Oh, dar-ling... That's a pic-ture of me when I was a-live. You see? It al-so says Min-er-va on the top... That's my Ro-man name."

"YOU'RE Athena?" The little girl looked up at me with innocent wonder. "You were really a goddess??"

"Mm-hm." I grinned. "I came back from the Un-der-world to pro-tect you and grant you my wis-dom, so that you may be a god-dess one day, too."

"AWESOME!" The little girl cried, jumping up and down with excitement. "I wanna be the goddess of EVERYTHING!"

"Per-haps you will," I calmly responded, using the opportunity to let the energetic little creature bounce around and tire herself out, grandiose dreams filling her head. I closed the book and gently placed it back on the shelf, knowing full well who was on the next page. I could not bear to once again lock eyes with the death-stare of that Goddess, having myself been dragged to her domain and back.

Demeter never came to save me.

Last edited by Marion Ette; 07-09-2012 at 05:12 PM.
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Old 11-23-2012, 08:03 PM   #4
Marion Ette
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The Transfer

A Blissey with a somber expression leads a Gastly and a Shuppet down the hallway, stopping in front of Room 221. Leaning her head against the door softly, she strains to listen for any sound or moment. The Gastly, with a confused expression, leans her head near the Blissey's uncovered ear;

Pardon me, but if she were in one of her... um, episodes, wouldn't we hear it all the way out in the corridor?

The Blissey does not move her head, and speaks in a low voice. We need to make sure that she is totally stationary; any remote hint of movement may signal an impending outburst. We already had one human nurse who thought it was safe because he couldn't hear any screaming... but she was awake, and groaning softly. I was fortunate enough to have been nearby and pulled the nurse out of there before he lost his other eye, too...

He lost his eye? The Gastly's eyes widen somewhat, though she clearly attempts to hide her shocked expression soon afterward.

It wasn't pretty. She went right for him. I'm no expert like you two, but whatever did this to her... whatever inflicted these awful, mad trances... it was not a pleasant creature to be around.

The Shuppet nods in agreement. Yeah, I'm getting that impression, myself...

The Blissey gives the pair of ghost-types a small smirk. Granted, you two have the advantage... You can't be harmed by anything she throws at you... but still, now that she has been newly classified, we have to take all the precautions.

The Shuppet turns to the Gastly, with a curious expression. Now, Iaso, I know you're new... Do you remember the classification system?

Oh, of course! Iaso grins, apparently eager to show off her knowledge to the older Pokemon. The Gallows-Ette Classification of Curse States has been utilized for diagnosis and treatment of curses since early 80's when two prominent ghost-type researchers developed a system based on research they had done on a strange cult of Banette worshippers that-

Yes, yes, The Shuppet nods, a bit distracted. Oddly enough, the descendant of that famous researcher is in the very room that we will be entering shortly... We think that her exposure to ghost types, particularly Banette, is what accounts for her astoundingly positive prognosis, given the severity of her symptoms.

Right... She would be... Class 1 Unaware which implies no volition whatsoever, Class 2 Violent which implies at least one case of grievous injury infliction and high potential for murder, Class 1 Distraught, which makes sense given the descriptions of the screaming and the constant thrashing and whatnot... yet for both Curse Impact and Curse Duration she's in Class 5...

Right, so if Class 7 for both means complete and full recovery expected in a week or less time with no lasting impact-

Which rarely ever occurs, interjects Iaso.

Right. That would mean that she is likely to recover fairly quickly... a month or less is what we define as Class 5 duration... and Class 5 impact implies that while she will never fully recover, any impact on the patient's daily life should be minor enough that she will not need to seek further treatment once she is out of the hospital.

How strange! Most cases I've read like this one would have a Class 3 Impact at best. I would have predicted the vegetative state described by Class 2 for her...

It is strange, indeed... but it is the uniqueness of this patient that makes me think it will be a great first experience for you. You will not be presented opportunities like this one very often.

Iaso nods in response to her male mentor, grinning widely in anticipation, though partially to hide her nervousness, as well.

After undoing a number of intricate locks, the Blissey carefully, cautiously opens the door of Room 221 for the two ghost-types. Remember, you two can phase through the door if necessary, the Blissey whispers, looking into the room to ensure that the patient within was asleep. Satisfied, she lets the two Shuppet slip through the crack, shutting and locking the door behind them. Good luck, the pair of ghosts hear faintly from behind the door, before they hear the sound of the Blissey shuffling away.

The Shuppet immediately gets to work; clearly having been trained well by the industry that represents him, he is able to use Psychic abilities to manipulate the files, organize his implements and levitate a recorder near his mouth. The "play" and "record" buttons press down by themselves, and the Shuppet begins speaking.

Anti-Curse Specialist and Treatment Director Asher reporting on November 21st, 2012 on the progress of the patient named Marion Ette. This is the thirteenth treatment administered since admission on the evening of October 31st, 2012. With me today is Trainee Iaso, who will be performing the therapeutic Dream Eater technique according to hospital protocol. Non-staff member Cheshire, a Gastly under ownership of the patient, had been performing this technique with the permission of Curse Unit Staff, but has been showing signs of illness from the excess of bad dreams ingested and has been given a period of no less than one week to recover before administering treatment again.

As Asher continues to describe on his recorder the previous treatments administered, Iaso cannot take her eyes off of the patient, who lies motionless in the hospital bed, breathing so shallowly that her heavy blankets register no movement. With skin so pale that the Gastly can count the veins in the woman's arms, Iaso wonders briefly if the patient had died... When she focuses, however, she can sense the life energy flickering forth from the patient, and though it does not radiate as it would for a healthy human being, her soul was still in tact... Wait. Something was wrong. Something about this woman's soul seemed... damaged, somehow. Even for a curse victim, her life force was oddly impacted. Despite not wanting to interrupt Asher's recordings, Iaso cannot help but feel like the risk of being seen as a nuisance is worth the potential revelation.

Sir, I'm sorry for the interruption... Iaso turns to Asher, and the Shuppet can immediately sense her uneasiness. Pressing "Stop" momentarily on his recorder, he addresses her promptly.

What's the problem, Iaso?

What are the readings on her life aura? Did Cheshire give a proper reading? He was an under-10, wasn't he..? You need a Haunter or Gengar of at least General Power Index 50 or above to get a thorough reading...

We did use Cheshire for preliminary readings, and we have been trying to get an advanced-level Gengar to the hospital to confirm his impressions, but the Hospital is always understaffed after Halloween. Curses, as you know, are particularly potent around this time, and many angry ghosts choose this time in particular to inflect revenge...

What did he say...? Iaso immediately looks concerned.

He said that he sensed that something was off... That something was missing from before. He says this out of recognition of his trainer's aura, but he is young and has only been her companion for a few months. He was not able to identify what exactly was off-

What's off is that her soul has been partially drained!! Iaso takes a deep breath, realizing that this is not the time or place to have an outburst. Hoping that she has not tarnished her reputation with Asher, she immediately becomes sheepish. I'm sorry, it's just that... I would wager that she is at 70% spiritual vitality which is not a common symptom even for curses. What species is responsible for this curse? What was its rating on the GPI?

Asher's eyes darken at the information that Iaso has just relayed, and his mouth twists into a scowl. Those at the scene claim it was the patient's Banette, who at last her last Daycare checkup was reported as having GPI 100. Cheshire did not report a decrease in soul vitality, but he is young and inexperienced and may not have known what to look for... Quick, page the nurse for a Psychic, high GPI priority, for a life aura analysis. NOW!

Iaso does not waste any time, and though she fumbles somewhat with the intercom, she is quick to recover and press the appropriate buttons. As she asks the Blissey on the other end for a Psychic Pokemon from the unit staff, Asher examines the patient, trying to sense her aura. He mutters to himself as he paces, frustrated with his lack of ability; dammit, I knew we needed a Gengar on the treatment team... Just because a member of the Shuppet family performed the curse doesn't mean that her cursing abilities strictly involve psychological warfare and emotional manipulation. A GPI 100 Banette could have very well tapped into the ability to...

Iaso floats over to Asher, interrupting his thoughts by patting him on the back with a ghostly appendage that forms from the gas that surrounds her. It isn't your fault. You did everything according to protocol, right? This was a high-level Banette's curse, but still, it should have adhered to the Banette species propensity for emotional and psychological manipulation... Dream Eater was a nice bonus that Cheshire had offered to perform, but it was just an addition to the prescribed treatment you were providing of draining her of the negative emotions that had been injected from the cursing needle. Soul injury is not common from that species...

Yes, but... Asher sighs, staring dejectedly at his patient. If her very life energy is damaged, then her prognosis drops to Class 4 at best... She is still recovering quickly, mind you, but I cannot imagine she would come out of something like that without suffering some effect...

The sound of locking mechanisms being manipulated outside draws Iaso and Asher's attentions to the door; soon, the heavily bolted door opens, letting in a stately-looking Gardevoir, who bows to Asher and Iaso gracefully.

Good day to you both, her soothing voice produces a melodic greeting, which seems to have a calming effect on both ghostly staff members.

Good day to you, madam, Asher says with a bow of his own. Wow, I did not expect one as powerful as you to be summoned for our purposes... It is rare indeed to have such a formidable Psychic in the curse ward, particularly with such a dangerous patient!

I sensed the urgency of the matter when the Blisseys came looking for one such as myself. The Gardevoir laughs a bit. Call it a premonition.

Oh, yes, well... Asher looks a bit embarrassed as he directs the Gardevoir over to his patient. We think our patient may have been subjected to a Soul Transfer. Now, we know that Psychic Pokemon should only be called in on extreme situations, but...

The Gardevoir takes a deep breath, her eyes portraying her concern. Oh, I sense the gravity of the situation already... but I do not think what occurred is necessarily what you and your colleague are thinking had happened, Mr. Asher.

What do you mean? Iaso tilts her head, curious at the psychic's assessment.

Her soul is damaged, yes. There has been... vitality, humanity, whatever you want to call it... taken from this woman. That said... What has been taken has not been taken without something given back in return.

Oh, no... you couldn't possibly be suggesting... Asher's eyes widen, while Iaso's expression simply becomes that much more confused.

A transfer, yes. Banette are capable of such an action, just as any other Pokemon with cursing capability. It is true that curses can be injected directly into an individual's bloodstream, for a more immediate, yet weaker effect... but that is not what occurred here. We both know this young woman was not the intended target. Indeed, the target has been cursed, too... With dreams, with visions, with the awakening of strange desires that already lay dormant within him...

A curse has two parts, Asher explains to Iaso. There is the infliction of pain on the target, and infliction of pain on the one who created the curse. We had originally thought that the patient's intervention had simply directed the target's pain to herself, but what our psychic friend is suggesting-

Cassandra, the Gardevoir patiently adds.

Cassandra, sorry... Asher blushes. What Cassandra is suggesting is that this young woman did not absorb the target's pain... She absorbed the Banette's. This type of thing is unprecedented, though! It would suggest...

It would suggest that the typical transfer of emotion and physical damage that occurs within a typical Banette's body during a curse is now happening between the Banette and the human. Ah, but what does that mean? Cassandra focuses for a moment, a blue light emanating from her horn that surrounds the cursed patient. It is as I thought, she murmurs. The Banette has absorbed some of her... well, soul, humanity, whatever you want to call it... her very life essence. In a Banette, the life essence is cycled into a curse-like "dormant" state temporarily, leaving the body only to be absorbed again as homeostasis comes back to the body... in this case, with two individuals participating instead of one, the essence has been transferred permanently. It left the patient and was absorbed into the Banette as the Curse took effect. The Gardevoir shakes her head. The Banette does not yet realize that this has occurred, though she has been using this newfound humanity to make herself appear more human. She seems to be under the impression that it is merely a side-effect from her recent increase in power... I am sure it is in her records that she has been trained to GPI 100.

But... but doesn't the patient gain something from the Banette in this case, then? Iaso tilts her head with curiosity. Isn't the idea of balance incredibly important to curses?

Yes, it is... Cassandra nods. She has been filled with emotionally intense memories, which are the source of her pain... but also a source of great insight. While the patient may have lost part of her humanity, the injection has given her a glimpse into the memories, dreams, fears, hopes, knowledge... the very soul of her Banette. There is nothing from her Banette memories that fateful night of the transfer that this human does not know now, too.

Asher seems deep in thought at this new revelation. So, she was forced to give up part of her soul in exchange for knowledge? Sounds almost Faustian to me...

Yes. Cassandra suddenly smirks playfully. Oh, but there's one more thing that you two probably should know...

What's that? Iaso and Asher ask in unison, looking at one another afterward with awkward smiles.

I sense... somewhere, where the roses bloom, that forgiveness and passion have been quickly unraveling the curse that has befallen both our patient and the intended target. Yes, earlier today, something happened to change the course of the illness that has befallen her. She is awake, now... she has been for some time... and she understands what you two have been saying. I would tread lightly with her. Cassandra giggles as the two ghost-type Pokemon pale with terror. Oh, do not fret... She is far less violent when in control of herself. Even so, I will leave you to speak with her... With that, Cassandra waves goodbye, and teleports out of the room before Asher and Iaso can even manage a proper farewell.

Min... Minerva? Where are you? The pale woman groans as she shifts her body, asking for her Banette in Banette language. I have... a lot... I need... to talk about with you. She tries to push herself up, wincing as she unintionally puts weight on the arm that is still healing from the needle puncture. She reaches out to Iaso and Andre, her eyes blurry and wet; Hey, Myrtle... Cheshire... Could you get me Minerva? I'm... not really... feeling well... You say... she took my soul?

Iaso and Asher look at each other, not sure of what to say to the patient. Thoughts of trying to explain that she could still live a normal life, that some psychic therapy might be helpful, that she will feel drained of energy for some months, all these explanations float through their heads, but they both find it difficult to look at this pale, fragile, doll-like young woman and confirm what has been said.

Marion reclines back in her bed, an odd smile on her lips. To the ghostly beings' surprise, the woman starts laughing softly.

If that's what she wants, she can have it, Marion decides in a soft, yet clear voice. There is nothing I would not give my sister... Nothing.

As the woman falls gradually back into slumber with an eerie little grin on her face, the two ghost-types wordlessly float out of the patient's room, quietly meditating on the little sister's complete and utter devotion.

Last edited by Marion Ette; 11-23-2012 at 08:29 PM.
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Old 02-15-2013, 04:48 AM   #5
Marion Ette
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((These are my records of an unfinished/terminated Bar storyline. Since it supposedly never happened, I decided to delete the posts in the Bar and archive them here.))

??? - The Fizzy Bubbles Bar was teeming with life this evening; young trainers and Pokemon enjoying the prime of their lives, drinking and socializing and getting themselves into all manner of mischief. It was the type of place he would go in his younger years, long before he quit the bottle. Long before he sought its refuge once again, as an older, isolated and desperate man. On and off again, the old amber lover, abusive to his body and to his mind, yet oddly comforting in times of need. He needed to quit her, but he couldn't help if the antidote was just another poison. Nothing made the hurt stop quite like her. On nights like this... He remembered liking his beer and his women dark. Too strong to take all at once, there was a depth to that flavor he just couldn't find in that light, chug-friendly swill his college friends would throw down two at a time. Nothing to savor in that.

Avoiding the gaze of the younger patrons, the middle-aged man keeps his focus on the ground, his well-pressed, stately-looking business attire dreadfully out of place with the more casual, yet sexy evening wear of those who surround him. Nervously fretting with his tie, he sits down at the bar; though the creases around his eyes betray his age, his piercing blue stare hints at a certain charisma and attractiveness in his younger days. Calling over the bartender, he reaches into his trouser pocket, producing an old, worn photograph. He clears his throat, handing the photograph to the bartender for inspection.

"So, I realize that this is going to make me sound like a creep," he begins, his shoulders tensing from the imagined judgmental looks of those around him, "but... I heard through the grapevine that there's a girl calling herself Coselle that's been showing up around here. I just wanted to know if she looks anything like the girl in that picture." He sighs heavily. "I've been trying to locate her, but people assume I'm some kinda weirdo trying to stalk her or something. I just want to know... I just want to know if it's her. Please, just let me know if you've seen a girl who looks like this."

The Bartender gives the man a sympathetic look, sensing his frustration and anguish. Inspecting the photograph a moment, the bartender's eyes light up with recognition. "Yeah, I'd say this looks just like her..." The Bartender pauses, admiring the photograph. "You a photographer? How'd you get this picture to look so old?"

The older man takes the photograph back from the bartender, shaking his head a bit. "No, I'm no photographer... That photograph's from 1990. The girl in the picture's been dead for about 20 years."

"Oh..." The Bartender looks stunned, then tries to offer some sympathy; "I'm sorry to hear that... but man, it looks just like her... Was that her mother or something?"

The man pauses for a long time before speaking again. "Say... Do you believe in reincarnation?"

The Bartender stands there for a moment, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Come again?"

"Never mind," the man says with as gentle a smile as he can manage. "Bring me a Gulden Draak, will you?"


Keith, Meowth, ??? - As the Bartender brings the man a tall, white bottle with a fierce-looking golden dragon roaring across the black label, Keith decides to walk over to the man, asking about his interest in Coselle. The man takes his freshly-opened beer from the Bartender before giving Keith a long look, as if attempting to read his expression, before answering carefully.

"To be honest, it is probably foolish of me," the man admits, "but I have some friends who were visiting Fizzytopia on business a few weeks ago, and they told me that there was a woman being whispered about in their travels who had gained quite the reputation around here lately. The kind of lady that had a look as if she always had something up her sleeve. Apparently, she is going by the name of Coselle." The man gazes into Keith's eyes, as if searching for something. "Not a very common name, is it? Not a terribly common description, either... Well, one of my friends saw who they assumed to be her walking out of the Cable Club one afternoon, and he swears that it was like stepping out of a time machine. I guess she looks a great deal like the Coselle we knew back when we were kids..."

The man takes a sip of his beer, his posture suggesting that he was not one to be intimidated by a young man like Keith. "Perhaps I can ask the same of you... Why your sudden interest in my interest?"


Keith, Meowth, ???: "Her boyfriend...?" The man gives Keith the once-over, looking somewhat incredulous. "Well, I mean, like you said, she's probably not the Coselle I knew, after all," he says with a smirk, before realizing that his comment might be taken offensively. He works quickly to correct himself; "It- It's just that the Coselle I knew tended to date a lot of punks. Handsome men with dark hearts. She liked having power over them... she was just that kind of girl. Out to conquer the universe and everyone in it."

At the sight of a talking Meowth, however, the man goes nearly berserk with excitement. "Holy SHIT! Did you teach him to do that? He sounds just like the one on that TV show!!" The man laughs and holds out his hand to the Meowth. "Hey, nice to meet you... and your trainer, too! My name's Seth." The man named Seth grins. "What's it like being a Pokemon? I always wondered..."

Seth coughs, and attempts to regain composure. "Yeah, anyway, about how I knew Coselle..." Seth sighs. "Well, it was a long time ago, but we went to the same middle and high school. We were part of the same group of friends." Seth takes on a wistful expression, reminiscing about his past. "She was a troublemaker, for sure... always getting into some sort of mischief. Her mom had a real tough time reigning her in, especially after the divorce. She was always causing mischief, but she had a good heart. I still remember when she went on the intercom and imitated the principal, making all sorts of sound effects and saying that the school was being attacked by a giant group of angry Salamence and that everyone needed to evacuate immediately... That couldn't have been later than, what, 8th grade?" Seth chuckles a bit at the memory, and yet his eyes water at the same time.

"I'll be honest with you, Keith... I thought there would be time to tell her how I felt. She cycled through men constantly, and I figured one day, she'd realize that she needed to settle down with someone who actually cared for her. We went to neighboring colleges, but she always had a boyfriend whenever I'd see her or come visit mutual friends, and eventually she dropped out to take care of her sister. The rumors around the school were that she got pregnant, but I knew the truth... Her mom started having issues once she remarried, and when her mom got pregnant again, the father kept insisting that she abandon the child. From what Coselle told me, their weirdo cult was of the opinion that Coselle's baby sister was cursed or something... That she would need to be sacrificed to Giratina or everyone in the cult would die." Seth shakes his head. "Crazy shit. Really insane. I always thought I'd visit Coselle sometime, you know, when I was finished with my degree... Help her take care of her sister and all, but she... Well. I always wonder what happened to her sister after she died. I guess... I guess she probably ended up dying, too."

Seth takes a heavy swig of his beer, and looks down at the floor. "You said your name was Keith, right? You taking good care of that Coselle of yours?"


Keith, Meowth, Seth: "Really? A trade machine malfunction? What could've caused that?" Seth tilts his head, and chuckles. "Eh, doesn't matter. Your Meowth is awesome regardless."

Keith listens to Seth's story, a brief pang of jealousy welling up within him, but dying down quickly; after all, Coselle had consented to be his, and his alone. He lets the middle-aged businessman know that he has been taking care of his Coselle, and asks about how the Coselle he knew died. The grey-suited man chugs the rest of his Gulden Draak before responding, and flags down the bartender; "Hey, Barkeep, could you grab me another? I'm gonna need it..."

The man places his feet squarely on the floor, bending over as if bracing himself. He leans toward Keith, his eyes intense. "The Coselle I knew was found in a garbage bag at a dump near the Mansion district. Single bullet through the head. No one was ever charged for the murder, but I think we all knew..." Seth pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath. "It was tragic, y'know. Coselle and her mom loved each other very much, despite all they went through, but after she went off with that guy from the cult, things changed. Arguments got heated in ways they weren't before, and the two just never... well, they couldn't get along for the life of 'em. I was in college then, so I didn't see all of what went on, but whenever I came to visit, I could always tell. Hell, sometimes the phone would ring and I'd hear the way Coselle would scream at her. Vicious, awful stuff." Seth shakes his head.

"Anyway... The thing with her sister was the last straw. She just couldn't fathom how anyone would kill an innocent newborn child. She told her mom that if she tried to kill the baby that she would report her to the authorities, and that she would have the cult disbanded. Coselle was a hardass, to be sure, but she has a soft spot in her heart for little kids, particularly her own flesh and blood. Well, Juli, Coselle's Mom, she knew that she couldn't kill the baby outright, so she abandoned her at her grandparents' mansion. Basically left her to starve, hoping to claim that she had no idea that her own parents were dead and that she thought the baby would be in good hands. Coselle figured out the plan and drove over to the Mansion, and decided to take little Marion as her own child. She spread the story that she was the one who got pregnant and tried to hide the fact that the baby was actually her mother's.

Well, I guess Juli found out... The death has all the markings of the cult, the way it was done. The way they dispose of bodies, the type of bullet, everything... but they're fucking slippery as Eelektriks. Y'know..." Seth looks into Keith's eyes, tears welling up in his own; "I wouldn't be surprised if Juli pulled the trigger herself. That wretched bitch... Why... why did she take Coselle away from us..."

Seth tries to choke his tears back, hiding his face with his palms. He pulls back his hair and straightens his back, trying to regain a more masculine posture. "It's fucked up, isn't it? They got what was comin' to 'em, though... The rumor is that someone broke into their compound and murdered all of them with some kinda curse. Juli was unrecognizable, they say; face so contorted with pain and horror that the coroner himself couldn't bear to look at her. Not sure who did it, but it was one of the most brutal homicides in the past ten years." Seth grimaces. "I hate to say it... but they deserved it, after everything they pulled."

Seth tries to smile, though his eyes are red from the tears that threaten to fall. "Anyway, on a happier note... This Coselle of yours. What's she like, if you don't mind me asking?"


Keith, Meowth, Seth: Seth's eyes progressively widen as Keith describes his girlfriend, the mention of "Umbreon" striking a chord in particular with Seth. Allowing Keith to complete his description, he sits for a moment, letting it all sink in.

"The Coselle I knew was not particularly creepy or unnerving... but smart, funny, intense, absolutely. She also... she also had an Umbreon named Anna. She loved dark types, too. Umbreon's pretty popular though, right?" Seth tries to laugh, tries to make the mood lighter, but it is clear from his heavy swig of beer and his tense shoulders that Keith's description of Coselle seems only to unsettle him further. He gathers his thoughts as he drinks, taking a deep breath before he speaks again.

"You wouldn't happen to have a picture of your Coselle, would you?" Seth takes the picture he had shown to the Bartender and displays it to Keith; "Or, even better - maybe you can tell me if the girl in this picture looks familiar."

There is no doubt when looking at the photograph that the black-haired girl it depicts is Coselle, and yet, there is something different about her; the eerieness of the Coselle that Keith loves seems absent from the girl in the photograph, whose eyes, while alight with mischief and clearly looking for trouble, lack their characteristic darkness. Dressed in her beloved gothic fashion with the same combat boots that she always wore, she sits with an open book on her lap in what appears to be a college dorm room.

"This was from the last time I visited her," Seth comments as Keith looks at the photograph. "She was big into poetry then. Does your Coselle write at all?" Seth carefully gauges Keith's reaction to the photograph, wondering if there would be some dawning realization that would make itself apparent in his face.


Keith, Meowth, Seth: After carefully observing the way Keith reacts to the photograph, he nods once, satisfied. He chuckles a bit at Keith's admission that he didn't know whether Coselle was interested in writing. "Don't know, huh? Well, I'm sure you'd know if we were thinking of the same person. The Coselle I knew majored in English when she was in school. Was obsessed with poetry. Slyvia Plath in particular. I think Lady Lazarus was her favorite."

The middle-aged man produces a handful of keys connected to a rather unremarkable-looking keychain and a Pokeball from his pocket, looking somewhat contemplative. "I am thinking of taking a ride up to her gravesite... It's not far from here. She lived and died in Fizzytopia, after all." The man activates his Pokeball, shouting, "Ready for a ride, Sarka?" the Pokeball bursts open to reveal the shape of a small bird with a round body and pointed beak, which turns out to be a little Natu. The creature immediately flies up to her trainer's shoulder, looking a little timid. "Heh, this is Sarka... I have to ask that you don't come too close to her, though. She's new to the team and very shy... but she loves car rides, right Sarka?" Sarka nods her head, chirping excitedly.

"You're welcome to come with us, if you like. It's a five minute drive or so. Can take some friends with you too, if you want. What do you say?" Seth laughs a bit. "I'm hoping I won't find the body's been dug up or something. I'm starting to suspect my dear friend's been resurrected somehow... but that's silly to think, yeah? Still... there have been a lot of coincidences."


Keith, Meowth, Seth, Sarka: Keith decides to go along for the ride, but not before withdrawing his Arbok and Weezing. Certainly, it would have taken time for Keith to withdraw all 30+ Pokemon of his, and most of them could take care of themselves, after all. Though Keith says nothing in response to Seth's suspicions, the silence communicates volumes.

"My car's parked in the lot. Surprisingly empty for such a packed place..." Seth muses on this fact for a moment. "Like the entire lot was cleared somehow. I hope parking after-hours is allowed! I'll be so pissed if I end up with a ticket..."

Seth leads Keith out the back door, to the only car parked in the vacant lot. A small, unimpressive little 2x4, but remarkably clean and reliable-looking nonetheless. Fumbling with his keys for a moment with Sarka on his shoulder, Seth unlocks the driver's side door, manually shifting the lock on the passenger side and opening the door for Keith. The smell of new-car scent wafts from the car, though the car itself does not look particularly new. Seth realizes that his employee ID is on the dashboard, and quickly pulls it off the dash, looking panicked for a moment. "Man, wouldn't want to forget that in the car," he says after wiping his brow. "This is a company rental. I'm paranoid about leaving anything in it," he adds. "Don't worry, though... I'm getting my work done, regardless of my side-trips."

Seth chuckles a bit, and Sarka rolls her eyes. Revving up the ignition, Seth's pale blue eyes turn to Keith, silently waiting for him to put on his seatbelt. "Arbok and Weezing, huh... and Meowth? Should I be concerned that you'll steal my Natu?" Seth grins. "Nah, I kid. You don't strike me as that type. Neither do your Pokemon."

Seth gently pushes on the gas pedal, the car rolling forward as he makes his way out of the parking lot and onto the city street. "So... I spent all this time asking you about Coselle, and I feel like I don't know much about you, Keith. What do you do for a living? Are you a trainer?"


Keith, Meowth, Seth, Sarka: Driving through the streets of Fizzytopia, Seth takes each turn carefully and gracefully with ease, driving with great familiarity through the town he grew up in. Past the Cable Club and the various Boutiques and Shops that line the City Center, he makes his way toward the Cemetery on the outskirts of Downtown FB, while continuing the conversation with Keith; "Poison type? Interesting. Sounds like you have quite the team going, too. Must've taken awhile to get such an impressive collection of Pokemon."

In what seems like almost no time at all, Seth turns through the ominous iron gates of the Fizzytopian Cemetery, driving by countless headstones for people and Pokemon alike. As Seth drives through the cemetery, his hands begin to grip the wheel tighter, likely overcome with emotion due to being in the cemetery where his friend had been buried. He is silent for a few, long moments, grieving the dead that he passes. So many of them, hundreds and hundreds; each stone marker, a life that no longer exists within the realm of Fizzytopia. It is almost overwhelming to think of how many people once walked the very same streets that Seth and Keith now drive across, that no longer have a chance to feel the sunlight on their faces, or hug a loved one, or breathe the cool night air.

With tears once again forming in his eyes, Seth begins to speak; "Say, Keith... Don't you think it's ironic that Coselle still prayed to Giratina, right up until her death... even though the cult her mother belonged to prayed to the exact same god?" Seth places his foot on the break, gently rolling the car to a stop. A bit of anger rises in his voice, presumably at the irony of Coselle's evil mother proclaiming to believe in the same god, while performing such horrific deeds in Its name.

"Don't you think it's ironic that she would murder countless people... even those who were innocent of the crime that lead to her death... for the sake of avenging a single innocent child?" Seth's ice-blue eyes widen, as if overcome with a viciousness Keith had not sensed before...

"Don't you think it's ironic that she would be the one to come back from the dead, when so many died because of her??" The wild-eyed Seth suddenly pulls a gun out of his pocket, and points it at Keith's temple. "And you... you knew, didn't you? Yet you willingly share a bed with a murderer?" The Natu on the man's shoulder flies into the back seat of the car, transforming itself into a particularly vicious-looking Zoroark. The Zoroark looks at Keith for a moment, focusing its energy, before its eyes glow an ominous color, transforming itself into an exact replica of the poison-type trainer. The Zoroark quickly runs out of the car, though where it happens to be headed is a mystery.

Contented with the transformation, the wild-eyed Seth pulls the trigger point-blank at Keith's temple... For a split second, Keith's life flashes before his eyes, before the impending brain-splattering BOOM comes out... as a pathetic, dead click. Seth immediately drops his arm, fumbling with the gun like a madman, sweat dripping from his pores. Cover completely blown and in a state of sheer vulnerability, he haphazardly troubleshoots the mechanizations of the pistol, screaming, "WORK, DAMN YOU! WORK!!"


Keith, Meowth, Gemini, Nagini, Hedwig, Seth, Sarka: Meowth quickly disarms Seth with some well-placed scratch attacks, taking the malfunctioning gun from the man with murderous intent. A string of vulgarities issues forth from the cracks between Seth's fingers as he holds his bloody face in agony, while Keith makes a quick exit from the car. Calling out Gemini to deal with the Zoroark and Nagini to deal with its trainer, the Arbok quickly immobilizes Seth before he has the opportunity to recover from his wounds and call out another Pokemon.

Though Seth is easily neutralized, the disguised Zoroark is quick on her feet... Until a Mean Look from Hedwig stops her dead in her tracks. Realizing that she will not be able to maintain her disguise in the face of two attackers, she breaks from the facade using Agility, which she utilizes to barely dodge the Thunder attack that blasts her way. Engaging in a bit of Foul Play, she goes straight for Hedwig, clearly intent on fighting for her life, even though the odds are against her.

Seth tries to keep his calm in reacting to Keith, despite the poison-type trainer having a clear upper hand. He smirks a bit at Keith's request for information. "Funny how you talk like you're a big shot when you're nothing but the lowest scum of the Earth," he snarls. "You expect me to spill my guts like some kinda comic book villain? I think you got the roles reversed here, buddy... I'm not the one who went batshit and killed twenty one people. I'm not the one who turned revenge into a meaningless mass slaughter. If there's someone you ought to be killing, it's her."

A sick, desperate laugh echoes from Seth's lungs, which are already constricting under the force of Nagini's grip. "Really, now... you gonna be a murderer, just like her... You're gonna stoop to her level now, huh? Pathetic." Seth smirks. "At least I'll die with a clear conscience. I did what I could to avenge my brothers and sisters and return that wicked creature to where she belongs. Giratina will have mercy on my soul... I doubt I could say the same for you."


Keith, Meowth, Nagini, Seth, Jake, Telpo - Having a bad feeling about the man that Keith decided to leave the Bar with, Jake decides to utilize Telpo's teleporting abilities to trail the pair, just to make sure that nothing suspicious was going on. Fear seizes the young trainer as he witnesses Keith being threatened by Seth with a pistol, and Jake orders Telpo to take advantage of even the slightest bit of mental weakness on Seth's part to try and take the gun. Heart pounding in his chest, Jake cannot help but worry immensely for his friend's life, but as luck would have it, when the gun malfunctions, Meowth is able to intervene just at the right time. Helping to defend Keith further, Telpo immediately takes the gun from Meowth and hides the weapon away so that no one can get hurt.

After Seth is bound by Nagini so as not to cause any further damage, it is highly unsurprising that the captive not only refuses to give Keith any information about himself, but maintains the position that he and Coselle are the enemy. At the suggestion of murdering his beloved, Keith slaps the man hard across the face, leaving a red, hand-shaped mark on the man's cheek. Refusing to allow the man to speak about Coselle in such a way, he reiterates the fact that the precious cult he seeks to avenge tried to kill an innocent child, as well as himself. Seth snarls, reeling from the slap across the face, and if looks could kill, his gaze would have been far more effective than the malfunctioning pistol. After a pause, Keith finally decides that he will not stoop to this man's level, but he will extract the information he desires. Seth immediately closes his eyes and turns away, being smart enough at least to recognize hypnosis when he sees it, but having looked into Meowth's eyes for that split second before he turns away, he cannot help but be drawn back into the glare, mouth agape as the hypnosis begins to take effect.

When Meowth is satisfied with his handiwork, Keith takes over once again, asking Seth what he could possibly hope to accomplish by Zoroark impersonating him. He smiles serenely, as the hypnosis takes full hold of his mind, and he answers in monotone. "It was not your Pokemon I planned on convincing. Zoroark would have headed straight to Coselle... Sarka has been trained to think of her own beloved while on the approach, only revealing her true emotions when the time is right. All she would need is enough to get close... and Coselle would be apprehended, and transformed back to her original state once she is safely confined in the appropriate cell. We have enough evidence to lock her up for life. My partner is already at the suspected address where she has been residing, waiting for Sarka to give the signal to bring that wretched Banette in. You think I don't have intel on that little incident of yours, Keith? It boggles my mind that you would so viciously defend a being who tried to murder you... Such a shame. You would have been a star witness at her trial if you weren't such a damned fool."

Sparky, Gemini, Hedwig, Sarka - With the Clear Smog negating her speed and the X-Scissor acting as a nasty counterattack to her attempt at Foul Play, Sarka is knocked backwards, and left vulnerable for the Quick Attack. Sparky also contributes a Fire Stream to the mix, which may not be as powerful as Gemini and Hedwig's attacks due to the level difference, but still packs a punch. The Zoroark, realizing that she is surrounded, tries using her Agility once again and bolts in the other direction, attempting desperately to escape from a battle she knows she won't win. After all, if she could possibly get out of range long enough to find help for Seth, perhaps she could get reinforcements.
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Old 02-17-2013, 05:13 PM   #6
Marion Ette
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Fallen Angel

The door to Marion's Secret Base bursts open early in the morning, as Coselle returns from her visit to Keith's. She immediately enters, the living room where Marion is sitting in her nightgown with a mug of tea in one hand as she pets the sleeping Eevee in her lap with the other. Grinning with newfound health and energy, Coselle greets Marion with a smile and a rather enthusiastic wave.

"Hello, sister~! That medicine of yours really seems to be doing the trick! I am feeling so much-"

Marion's expression is in stark opposition to her sister's cheeriness as she interrupts her sister's jovial greeting. "Liliana told me the whole thing."

Coselle's eyes widen. "Why would she-"

"Why wouldn't she? Do you honestly expect me to believe that you magically got better with that medicine? Or, even better, that Keith found some magic cure? I respect Keith as a trainer, and please do not take this the wrong way, but I would have a very difficult time believing that he, with little experience in the field, would find a cure for you when I have not."

Coselle grimaces somewhat. "Oh, ye of little faith-"

"I'm right, aren't I?" Marion narrows her eyes. "I'm right that he did exactly what I told you I did NOT want to see happen?" Marion's eyes flare with rage. "What did you do? What did you promise him? He was such a nice fellow before you started-"

"You listen to me, Mary," Coselle clenches her fists, a fire beginning to spark in her own pale gaze; "I did not influence him to do this. Do you understand me? He overheard our conversation and did it of his own accord. I did not put the idea in his head. I have influenced him in many ways, yes, but this is not one of them."

"Tauros shit." Marion grits her teeth, an anger awakening in her that few would ever see, before or since. Kuranes, who wakes up immediately at the angry hiss of his trainer, plasters his ears to the his body, his tail drooping between his legs as he scurries off of Marion's lap and away from the argument. "How many people was it? Five? Five broken souls floating in the aether? What you have done is a sin against Giratina, against the very humanity you crave!" Marion stands up quickly, slamming her mug against the table, tea spilling everywhere. "You may have taken their humanity, but you are not human. Not after this."

"Are you kidding me?" Coselle scoffs. "Those bastards do not deserve a soul after what they've-"

"Who are YOU to say that? Are you Giratina now? Should I be bowing to you, oh goddess of justice? You have no right to do that to somebody, no matter what they've done! It is one thing to murder another human being. It is another entirely to destroy their very soul. Committing an act of true death is an unforgivable sin! Weren't YOU the one who told me that??" Tears begin to stream down Marion's eyes, as her body shakes with uncontrollable rage.

"Marion, you-"

"GET OUT." Marion points at the door. "The two of you are not welcome here anymore."

"You're being unrea-"

"I SAID GET OUT!" Marion's hair nearly stands on end as she shouts at the very top of her lungs; the sight of the infuriated young woman is enough to send Coselle turning tail and fleeing out the door; as Coselle slams the door behind her, Marion deflates like a balloon, her anger giving way to a silent brooding. She collapses back into her chair, her head hanging down. Little Kuranes slowly tiptoes back to the chair, looking up at Marion with the biggest, saddest eyes he can possibly muster. Marion gently picks up the little Eevee, holding him close, as she cries softly to herself.

"How far she has fallen," she whispers.
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Old 03-12-2013, 06:25 PM   #7
Marion Ette
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Lizzie

In the center of Marion's living room, a large, powerful Dragonite sits quietly on the floor. Her muscles relax as her eyes close, a familiar mantra that she had developed with a dear friend from long ago echoing within her mind:

The center of the mind; the eye of the storm. In the midst of chaos, I gravitate to the stillness. In the throes of mighty winds, I will not be torn asunder, for I know where I must safely land. In the center.

August's mantra seems rather appropriate for the chaotic excitement surrounding her, as Marion's other Pokemon eagerly discuss the latest goings-on in their trainer's life; namely, the hatching of a dragon mystery egg. It had become the custom lately for only one of Marion's ghost types to be allowed to peer into the egg and discern the identity of the baby, but that one ghost type would have to keep the secret from the rest of the party so that they could be just as surprised as Marion when the baby hatched. Murmur and Cheshire, who were both unaware of the baby's identity, seemed to be arguing bitterly over the gender of the hatchling, while Bedivere attempted to mediate between the two arguing ghost-types with his characteristic chortle and laid-back attitude that gender did not matter as long as the hatchling was healthy. Meanwhile, the others all seemed to have their own predictions and theories about what species the baby might be, given what they had observed. Some thought Swablu, while others thought a Druddigon or Horsea... Of course, some predictions were more likely to be accurate than others, as Sakura the Nincada desperately tried (and failed) to explain to Mr. Nose that vacuums were not Pokemon, let alone a dragon type.

"But they roar! Mr. Nose has heard the mighty roar," the Nosepass protests with a shiver.

For this particular hatching, the Pokemon chosen to peer into the egg was none other than Gwyn, the Litwick. Ever the silent one, he was known for his ability to keep secrets; though other ghosts (such as the energetic Gadget) were infamous for spilling the news to the others, Gwyn had not informed a single soul about what he saw. Once he confirmed that the baby was healthy and developing properly by the use of shadow smiley-faces, he communicated no more about it. When the other members of the team would ask him about the baby, he would simply pretend not to know how to communicate that type of information.

As August tries to center herself, however, Gwyn hovers with a concerned expression over her shoulder. Though the Dragon type lacked the ability to become incorporeal and peer into eggs, her typing gave her a special connection to the egg that Marion had been caring for during the week. In fact, August had done a great deal to help Marion raise the egg, providing the appropriate nest and warmth, and advising her on how to speak and interact with the tiny being beneath the shell. It had been a taxing week, particularly on the dragon mother's heart, as taking care of that egg made her long for her own baby, and yet it was a great joy to be able to take care of this little one in preparation for its hatchling. Of course,Gwyn could tell that something was weighing on her mind. Casting a shadow of a Dragonite in a sad, weighted posture, Gwyn tilts his head, as if asking if his assessment of her attitude is correct.

Sensing a shadow passing over her, August opens one eye to take a look at Gwyn, the eye traveling down to the shadow message. The giant dragon sighs, but tries her best to smile.

Oh, I am feeling all right, Gwyn. Please do not concern yourself over me, August comments to the Litwick. The creature then casts the shadow of an egg, and August nods her head solemnly.

Admittedly, I am a bit concerned. Were this a Trapinch or Swablu... One of the types that gain their dragon typing later in life... I would see no issue with giving the baby up to Balmund. He is a very strong and capable trainer, after all. August shakes her head. I am sure that Marion thinks she is hatching just another Trapinch... A nice little gift for her loved one. But you have seen the face of this little one, Gwyn.

Gwyn nods in response, his eyes reflecting August's concern. Somehow, this statement, though spoken in a low voice, seems to have attracted the attention of one of the more curious of Marion's Pokemon.

Not just another Trapinch? What do you mean? Elysia the Cottonee floats between Gwyn and August, speaking loudly enough that Marion's entire team suddenly crowds around August and Gwyn with the desire to glean whatever information they can about the new baby. Gadget, who had been taken out of lawnmower form so that he would not completely and utterly destroy the Base with his enthusiasm, zaps around in his plasma form, brimming with excitement.

I think she means that the baby is a big mighty roar-angry dragon full of the fangs and the teeth and the RAWR and just like our buddy August only full of the RAGE and the dragony funtime destruction death dooooooom~

Is it true? Taran the Joltik looks up at August with big, concerned eyes. Is the baby... a true dragon?

August grimaces a bit at Elysia, though she eventually gives Taran a solemn nod in response to his question. [i]I sense a great power from that egg. I do not know why Marion has been chosen, once again, to raise a baby with power of that magnitude... It seems a bit much to be coincidence.[i] August turns to look out the window of the Secret Base, and catches sight of her trainer approaching. Fate is calling to her. Whether or not she will listen... That is what concerns me.

Noting August's attention, the other members of Marion's team rush for the window, while Bedivere rushes for the door, to welcome his Lady inside. Eager to meet the new hatchling, they all circle around Marion the moment she enters the door. Of course, reading Marion's expression, they can tell that the hatchling came as a bit of a surprise; radiating with happiness, the ghostly maiden gives her team a giant grin.

"Oh, I really lucked out this time, guys! Haha, I know Duke will love her-"

"HAH!" Cheshire points with a gaseous finger at Murmur with a self-satisfied smirk. "I knew it."

Murmur pouts with disappointment, and turns to Marion, hoping desperately that she misspoke.

"Er, anyway..." Marion laughs a bit, all too familiar with the rivalry between Cheshire and Murmur. "I won't keep you all in suspense any longer! August, Bedivere, I'm going to need you both to help me dress her up for the Cable Club. I want a nice, big bow around her neck, and I want her tusks polished so that they're nice and clean."

T-tusks...? Taran immediately looks concerned.

"Okay, everyone! Stand back!" Marion's Pokemon give her some distance as she pulls out the Pokeball containing the new hatchling. With a blast of red light, the silhouette of an Axew forms before the red light fades, removing any doubt as to the creature's identity. The big-tusked Pokemon's red eyes eagerly dart around, looking at the members of Marion's team with curiosity, before her eyes fall squarely on August. A fire immediately starts in the little girl's eyes, as she immediately recognizes the one that she will call her rival. August knew that look intimately... often, young dragons would identify stronger brothers and sisters early in their lives that they would develop an instinctive drive against; these rivalries, given a supportive adversary, were often crucial to the development of a young dragon. Though some of Marion's team notice the look and immediately appear concerned, August chuckles at the sight. Ohhh, this one is going to be a handful, she muses.

Marion immediately picks up the little Axew, giving her own confused look to August. "Is there something wrong," Marion asks, and August gives the trainer a reassuring smile. Trusting in her Dragonite, Marion smiles back, and immediately carries the Axew off into her bedroom, with Bedivere following close behind with all manner of ribbons and baubles to dress up the baby.

***

"No! No, stop eating the rib- stay still, please! Stay STILL! August, please, hold her down- OUCH! That tail packs quite a punch, doesn't it... Oh, but I do want to have a little bow on the tail, too." Marion laughs as the team struggles to quaff the new baby Axew, who seems to think that all of this beautifying is some sort of game. Were the Axew averse to bows and ribbons, Marion would never force her to put them on, but the little Axew's eyes and actions betrayed more playfulness than irritation, and Marion had the distinct feeling that the little creature was simply trying to mess with her and August. Finally, after being held down by the stronger Dragonite, Bedivere is able to tie a beautiful gold ribbon around the Axew's neck, decorated with a charm bearing a deep green gemstone with flecks of red showing through. As Bedivere ties the charm around Axew's neck, he repeats part of a poem from his youth;

"Who in this world of ours their eyes
In March first open shall be wise,
In days of peril firm and brave,
And wear a bloodstone to their grave."
Bedivere's ever-present smile widens as he finishes the verse. "A true daughter of March should be given a bloodstone to commemorate her birth, ohohohoho~"

Marion admires the gem around the Axew's neck, then takes a look at the little baby wearing it, patting her gently on the head. "You look beautiful."

The Axew chirps happily at this appraisal. However, her face immediately falls as Marion continues; "I know Duke will be so thrilled the moment he lays eyes on you! He's such a lucky man to be getting such a pretty lady~"

August immediately senses the change in the hatchling's mood, and braces herself. The hatchling begins roaring with anger, stomping her feet and throwing her head back in a display of distress. At the Egg House, Marion had mentioned meeting a new friend... She had not mentioned going home with him! This was unacceptable. The hatchling begins rampaging, ramming her head against the bedpost of Marion's bed, wailing in fury.

Marion looks utterly dumbfounded at the hatchling's reaction, and turns to August, desperate for help. The Dragonite shakes her head and looks down at the hatchling, as if surprised that Marion hasn't figured it out already.

"If I may be of service, dear lady..." Bedivere holds up a tentacle, about to provide a translation, when August gently pushes Bedivere's tentacle back down, shaking her head. This was something Marion had to figure out on her own.

Marion sighs deeply, realizing that August was not about to give her the answers this time. Marion kneels down on the ground, tilting her head to get a better look at the rampaging Axew. "Honey... Honey, what's wrong? Why are you so angry with me?" Marion didn't quite know how she knew that this anger was directed at her... yet intuitively, she couldn't help but think it was something she had said or done that set off the little creature. Her words seem to have no effect at first, as the Axew begins gnawing viciously at the iron post. Marion takes a moment to center herself, much as August had been doing earlier, before attempting to speak to the hatchling once again.

"Honey... Why are you doing this? You were so happy, right up until I mentioned Bal-" It is in that moment that the realization hits Marion hard. Feeling a bit embarrassed at the amount of time it took for her to get it, yet confused as to why the baby would feel this way, Marion presses forward;

"Why don't you wanna go with Balmund? You haven't even met him yet! He's such a wonderful man, Axew... He will take good care of you."

The Axew finally turns to Marion, only now, Marion can begin to perceive the underlying grief in the Axew's sudden burst of anger. There was a distinct hint of loneliness and adoration underlying the ruby rage of the Axew's eyes that seemed distinctly familiar... Thinking back, Marion realizes that the look was vaguely reminiscent of Mr. Nose's tear-filled gaze when they first met at the Adoption Center. The look of a child unable and unwilling to leave a trusted parent. Marion once again turns to August for guidance, and the motherly Dragonite places a claw gently on Marion's shoulder, looking to her before looking meaningfully at the baby. She speaks to Bedivere, and the Frillish immediately translates;

"My Lady, I have been asked to inform you by the Lady August that while your intentions of giving Balmund a present symbolic of your loving affection were certainly noble, it is not your place to choose the owner for a baby such as this. Indeed, it is up to the baby to choose... and she has chosen you, ohohoho~"

"But..." Marion begins to protest, looking nervous. "I- I don't really know... Duke would be sure to win her heart, wouldn't he? He's so talented at training dra-"

August cuts her off with a stern, yet loving expression, and though she does not speak directly, Marion can understand what the elder dragon is attempting to communicate.

"Mm... It is true that you turned out okay in the end... Who knows, maybe I'll luck out again, haha~" Marion gently picks up the little Axew, plucking off the bow from her tail and cradling her gently. "If you do not want to go with Balmund, I will not make you go."

The little Axew calms down immediately at Marion's words, curling up into a little ball in her arms, sleepy after the sudden outburst. Marion's heart melts for the little creature, who places so much love and trust in her. "Sleep well, little Lizzie," she whispers to the baby as she holds her close, before heaving a deep sigh. "Well, I guess I will have to get Duke something else for his birthda-"

"Ohohohohoho~!" Bedivere giggles happily as he darts over to a corner of the room, sorting through a small selection of boxes that Marion did not recall being there before. Eventually, he pulls out a brand new black Xtranceiver from the pile of packages, complete with a gorgeous Seviper design. "The Lady August and I went shopping the other evening while you were in the lab, and I picked this up just in case, ohohohoho~!" Bedivere grins, handing the Xtranceiver to Marion. "His last one was indeed eaten by the Lady Orchrist, was it not? I imagine he will need this sooner or later~"

Marion gives Bedivere a warm smile, though she notes the subtle wink that August gives to the Frillish as the package is handed to Marion. The might dragon wraps an arm around Marion and admires the little Axew as she sleeps. Fate had a funny way of bringing unexpected people and Pokemon into their lives... but it was always for a reason.
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Old 04-27-2013, 06:35 PM   #8
Marion Ette
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.:Credit to Balmund for the awesome logo!:.


THE ETERNALS


"Eternal Life. If I told you that such a thing were possible, what would you do? What would you sacrifice for a thousand lifetimes? For infinite knowledge? For the opportunity to explore and conquer this world and beyond – like the gods of sky and space – forever?

"Consider the strange phenomenon which trainers and scientists refer to as the “ghost” type. How could ghost Pokemon exist in this world - how could the spirits of the dead walk among us, as if living - if death were truly the end? Indeed, it is the very existence of ghost Pokemon in our world that spurred a fascinating train of thought within our former leaders, a young female scientist of a prominent family and a religious visionary of little wealth but profound influence, to establish this prestigious organization. Driven simultaneously by faith and reason, the pair used their unique strengths and talents to bring the Eternals closer than ever before to the truth about our existence in this world… and our potential for immortality.

"The answer, my friends, lies in the Distortion World, and with our Lord, the Renegade God Giratina. He, and only He, keeps the secret of eternity buried deep within his dark and twisted heart. The secret, of course, is antimatter. Giratina, our Lord, is the master of this antimatter. His world, a parallel to our own, carries exact replicas of ourselves. Those things which we refer to as “ghosts”, our research has found, are simply projections of our antimatter selves into the material world when the imbalance known as “death” occurs... Namely, when the material self vanishes, and the antimaterial self must take over to compensate.

"What if you could balance matter and antimatter? What if you could become a melding, an amalgam of the two – what if you could, essentially, walk the line between life and death? Ever-shifting, ever-balancing, never quite in one world or the other. True balance is the key to eternity. Indeed, we must walk the line in many ways: between emotion and reason, between faith and science, between good and evil. Ultimately, it is this balancing of all things which will prepare our minds and bodies for the ultimate balancing act. Thus, we have been working hard on organically rebuilding material selves which can appropriately integrate with antimaterial projections, and on learning how to balance material and antimaterial in such a way as to create perfect union between the two, such that one can shift at will between material and antimaterial universes. Much like Giratina, we all must find the 'Origin Forme' within ourselves, and learn how to shift between our current bodies and that sacred, antimaterial forme. In all that we do, we praise and meditate with our Lord, who guides our faith as well as our reason. He is our Divine Inspiration… and he will lead us to the eternity we seek." - Eitan Briar, former Spiritual Leader of the Eternals


The Former Leaders of the Eternals


Eitan Briar – Father of the Eternal


The son of a poor family in southern Fizzytopia, Eitan dreamed of becoming a dragon tamer when he was very small, though his parents could not afford to give him a dragon type to train. Eitan was a strange child from the beginning… Often, his dreams revealed to him a strange world populated with the faces of the dead. At first, young Eitan was reticent to reveal his visions to others, until what everyone assumed to be a tragic accident claimed his older brother’s life. Ever since that fateful moment, Eitan found himself visited by a distorted otherworld version of his brother in his dreams; for months, this vision would attempt to speak, and Eitan struggled to communicate, having difficulties understanding the otherworld spectre’s garbled, illogical speech and uncoordinated gestures. According to Eitan, comprehension finally dawned on him when he “let go of reason” and allowed pure, unbridled intuition to guide his listening. Eitan’s dream revealed that his brother had been murdered by a jealous classmate. This incident earned Eitan his reputation as a man who could speak with the dead. With this reputation, Eitan quickly began exploiting his talents to earn money for his Pokemon journey. Despite urgings to become a ghost or psychic-type trainer, however, Eitan began his Pokemon journey with a young Dratini he purchased from another trainer, in hopes that he would fulfill his childhood dreams. In truth, Eitan had a real knack for training dragon types, though his undeniable connection with this strange dream world left him with many questions regarding his own identity. He spent many years writing down his thoughts in journals which are closely guarded by the organization today.

Finally, after years of grappling with his strange dreams, and looking to his growing Dragonair for inspiration and advice, Eitan came to a life-changing revelation; these visions were actually not dreams, but journeys into the Distortion World. Indeed, Eitan eventually began identifying himself as a “Child of Giratina,” which not only explained the phenomena that occurred around him, but his love of dragons, as well. This revelation moved him to start a church in honor of his “Father”, and to encourage others to worship the Pokemon that had blessed him with this incredible talent. At first, simply praying to Giratina was enough for Eitan to be happy… but after a chance meeting with a renowned ghost-type specialist named Juli Ette at a fancy get-together held by an influential member of the ghost Pokemon research community, Eitan found himself captivated by Juli’s theories on the Distortion World and the potential for humans to tap into the power of antimatter. From this discussion, and the eventual affair that followed, the Eternals was born from their shared passion.


Julianna (Juli) Ette - Undying Spirit


“I have forsaken my family… my position… my home… my very life. I have given everything I have away in order to pursue this dream. The funny thing is, the longer I live among the Eternals, the less this seems like sacrifice… and more like liberation.” –Juli Ette

The wedding of Julianna Bates and Dr. Kingston Ette, by all accounts, was a beautiful and extravagant one; as the union of two brilliant, highly educated minds from influential families, no expense was spared in creating an event absolutely dripping with splendor. Yet even with the crystal and fine glass, rubies and gemstones, diamonds and gold-plated everything, nothing seemed to shine as bright as the young couple’s love and excitement for the union. After the wedding, the two researchers who had met in college moved in together in the Ette Family Mansion (which Kingston had inherited), and soon, Juli was pregnant with their daughter, Coselle. For a while, it seemed to many as if this perfect pair would live a life straight out of a storybook… but Juli yearned for passion and excitement, and long kept these desires hidden away from her husband and growing daughter. Eventually, Juli would meet Eitan at a get-together organized by a friend of hers from the community, and the pair would immediately hit it off. After one too many glasses of champagne, Juli would reveal her supposedly “crackpot” theories regarding antimatter to Eitan, who embraced them wholeheartedly… much to her surprise. The pair would continue meeting in secret after that fateful night, and eventually, Juli ran away from her husband and then 16-year-old daughter in order to begin a new life as the Head of Research for the Eternals.

Juli used herself for many of her procedures, insisting that it was the most ethical way to go about learning the effects of antimatter on the human body. Her experiments resulted in a gradual decline in her own physical aging, and her view of the Distortion World was clearer than ever before; however, the procedure had strange effects on her skin, eyes and hair, turning her skin pale and her hair an odd shade of lavender. It is unknown why the treatment had this effect on her body. Rumor has it that her methods were destroyed after she became pregnant by Eitan, and his dreams revealed that the child was an “abomination” in the eyes of Giratina. Some believe that the child in her womb passed away as a result of the treatment, while others believe the child was murdered by Eitan the moment it was born. Still others claim that the child lived, but to this day remains affected by the procedures undergone by her mother. The truth remains unclear.


The Incident


One night in the late October of 2005, an unknown intruder broke into the original Church of Giratina built by Eitan and Juli. Every single member of the organization (twenty in total, including Eitan and Juli), were brutally murdered inside the church during a ceremony praising Giratina for their recent success in improving the process to bring their bodies closer to the Distortion World. It is believed that the curse of a powerful ghost-type Pokemon was the cause of death for the members, though it is unknown what species the Pokemon was (if there was only one), or whether the Pokemon happened to be working alone or under the orders of a trainer. The Church, which was assumed to be cursed by similar causes as the mysterious Phantom Isle, was declared unfit for investigation. Since that incident, the Eternals were presumed defunct, until their public revival in early 2012.


The Current Leaders of the Eternals


Seth – Infinite Lifetimes


“Took a liking to Seth, did you? Well… I suppose I’ll keep his face around. I’ll wear it every so often, if it will please you. Just remember that this, this ‘something’ you see in his eyes… that is part of the mask, too.” –Seth to Ashleigh

From the rubble of the first organization rose “Seth”, whose real name and identity remain unknown to the public. He is an enigmatic individual who has at least ten different life histories, none of which are likely to be true. Though it is fruitless to attempt to describe Seth’s past, one thing is for certain; Seth is a master of disguise. The authorities know of at least 30 different identities that Seth has used, and it is possible that triple that number exist. Seth shifts between roles and identities flawlessly, and with the aid of his Ditto and Zoroark, even his Pokemon can shift with him. Publically identifiable presences are dangerous to the mission of the organization, yet they are necessary in order to obtain new recruits and keep the organization represented positively. Thus, the one called Seth is essentially in charge of that presence. He is everyone and no one, with a face to meet every scenario… both public and private. Not only is he a Spiritual Leader for the organization, but he maintains a number of other identities for the organization as well. In fact, it is rumored that Seth was the only member of the organization for the first three or so years, even though it had appeared that the organization was quickly amassing members. This illusion was entirely his doing.

Seth likely learned of the organization from family members of the initial members of the Eternals, and reportedly has said that he dreams of living a thousand lifetimes, shifting his identity every 100 years or so. This dream inspired Seth to bring the Eternals back into the public eye, in order to help himself (and the others worthy of eternal life) achieve this goal through Giratina’s amazing power. He is a gifted public speaker, no matter what face he wears, and he serves as the Spiritual Leader for the Eternals.
Most members refer to Seth by the identity he used to recruit Ashleigh into the organization. Ashleigh seems to be quite fond of Seth, though it is unclear whether she is in love with the face, or the actual person beneath it. In reality, Seth’s name is unknown by even veteran members of the organization.


Ashleigh Chou – Unfading Memory


“I’m real… I’m just as real as everyone else here. Then again, the boundaries between reality and fiction have been blurring here, as of late.” - Ashleigh

Ashleigh began her life as a trainer at the age of 16, when she received an adorable female Abra named Iris as a starter Pokemon from the town breeder. The young woman’s overprotective parents had prevented her from journeying before she was “old enough,” despite the fact that Ashleigh protested that their old-school views of what constituted an appropriate age for adventuring did not reflect the current times. Eager to escape her parents and finally have the freedom she felt she deserved, Ashleigh and Iris traveled the world, battling other trainers and gradually gaining strength, as any other trainer would do. Iris evolved rather quickly into Kadabra, and with the evolution came a profound increase in Iris’ intelligence and telepathic capabilities. Uninhibited by the constant need for sleep with her new evolution, Iris found herself incredibly thirsty for knowledge, and constantly begging Ashleigh for access to libraries, museums and other places of learning. Though Ashleigh was far less inclined to spend her days reading books and admiring portraits, she obliged, and soon, others were taking notice of the extreme intelligence of Iris, even beyond that of other Kadabras. It was not long before Iris was recruited as part of a revolutionary all-Pokemon Research Team at the Fizzytopian University, where Pokemon were given the opportunity to perform experiments of their own and take classes at the university. Though it was a difficult decision for both Ashleigh and Iris, the young Ashleigh decided it was best for Iris to follow her dreams, and allowed her to join the Research Team. Iris loved the work that she was able to do and loved all of the insight and knowledge she was gaining, but as the visits from Ashleigh became less and less frequent, Iris found herself feeling increasingly lonely.

In the second year of Iris’ training, a dream-like premonition warned the Kadabra of her trainer’s imminent death on the campus grounds. Fearing for Ashleigh’s life, Iris contacted her trainer and expressly forbade her from coming to visit for her safety, agreeing to meet with her outside campus until Iris felt that the fate had been avoided. Unfortunately, despite this attempt at preventing Ashleigh’s death, the poor young woman was hit by a car on her way to meeting Iris at a local coffee shop, and was killed on impact. Because Iris’ trainer had been declared dead, she was traded to the University Pokemon Reserves so that she may remain on University grounds if she chose; it was this trade that evolved Iris into an Alakazam, and further increased her incredible intellect. Despite her increase in mental capacity, however, Iris was still distraught with grief. Withdrawing into her room, she spent many months in a state of depression.

A few months later, out of the blue, Ashleigh showed up at the Fizzytopian University Admissions Department one afternoon, with Iris by her side. The young woman applied to join a research group interested in the study of antimatter, and despite having shown no interest in the subject before her death, surprisingly showed enough promise to be accepted into the program. Ashleigh vehemently claimed that she never died and indeed had been buried alive, and that she had to claw herself out of her coffin, but the psychic Iris sensed her terrible situation and broke her out of the grave. Iris then nursed Ashleigh back to health, and it was in this time that Ashleigh “saw the light” and decided to become a researcher. Though Ashleigh’s parents and friends were happy to have her back, many argued that something had… well, changed about her. She didn’t seem to be the same person that she was before her near-death experience, though many chalked it up to the dramatic nature of what she had endured.

While studying at the Fizzytopian University, Iris came across a strange young man named Seth at a lecture on the hypothesized anatomy of Giratina’s Origin Forme. Impressed by Ashleigh’s research, Seth invited her to help him restart an organization he had read about in his travels. Though Ashleigh refused at first, she found herself running into Seth every so often at conferences, and when she finally graduated from her Master’s program, she decided to join Seth until she could find a job at another University. Both Iris and Ashleigh found themselves oddly enamored with the organization, and with Seth himself. The idea of bringing people back from the dead, in particular, was a fascination of Iris’, and it was at Iris’ insistence that Ashleigh ultimately decided to take on the role of Head of Research. Though this distinction technically belongs to Ashleigh, both she and Iris discuss every decision before Ashleigh makes an official statement. In addition, it is rumored that the pair often consult with a strange Banette, whose cloth is embroidered with religious symbols and the name of Giratina in various alphabets and languages. It is said that the Banette belongs to Ashleigh, though the strange Pokemon is often seen acting of her own accord. The identity of that Banette remains unclear. None of Ashleigh’s family or friends recall her ever catching a Shuppet or Banette before joining the organization.


The Church of Giratina


The church itself is as much a celebration of science as it is of religion; altars exist alongside laboratories. Religious images adorn chemical supply closets. It is an unprecedented fusion of knowledge and belief, in keeping with the tenet of balance in all things. It is not enough to serve Giratina with mere words and offerings. According to an early speech by Eitan, “In bringing ourselves closer to the truth about our world, it is not just ourselves who are helped, closer and closer to infinity… but we help our beloved God in our quest to ensure His freedom. This quest cannot be accomplished by mere words alone, but by research and careful study. The ultimate show of gratitude for our Lord, once our research has accomplish perfect union between the material and antimaterial, would be to rescue our Lord from the trappings of the Distortion World, much as he has liberated us from the trappings of the Material World. This is the ultimate goal.”

The current church out of which the Eternals operate is located in Southern Fizzytopia, and this church is open for guided public tours. Clean, pristine and well-organized, the impressive building is a point of pride for the Eternals. As for the original church, built by Eitan and Juli on the outskirts of Phantom Isle, only approved members are allowed inside the seemingly abandoned structure, which is boarded up and protected by guard Pokemon. It is believed that the bodies of the former members still litter the church, and that the blood has never been cleaned away. The site is highly sacred to the Eternals, and trespassing in any way, shape or form is likely to be met with terrible consequences.


Member Titles


Head of Research


Co-leader with the Spiritual Leader, the Head of Research oversees all scientific and academic pursuits of The Eternals. The Head of Research has the sole authority to approve or deny projects within the organization; thus, incredibly sound judgment and objective reasoning is expected of this individual. Originally, this role was held by Juli Ette, but after her untimely demise, Ashleigh Chou took the role.


Spiritual Leader


Co-leader with the Head of Research, this important individual is the head of spiritual affairs and chief Priest or Priestess of the Organization. The Spiritual Leader plays an integral part in the organization’s rituals, usually acting as the leader in ceremonies. While the Head of Research serves as the brains of the operation, the Spiritual Leader acts as a voice, and often acts as ambassador to other organizations on The Eternals’ behalf. The original Spiritual Leader of the Eternals was Eitan Briar, but after the Incident, the role was taken by Seth.


Priests/Priestesses


These members have chosen a more spiritual path, and aid the Spiritual Leader in his rituals and meditations. Their intensive and highly specialized mental training predisposes them to visions of the Distortion World, though not all Priests and Priestesses ultimately develop this talent. Members drawn to this path seek answers through their dreams and visions, as well as through adamant prayer to Giratina so that He may bless their more scientifically-minded comrades with insight and discovery. These members are closely connected to their teams of ghost-type Pokemon, and look to them for spiritual guidance as creatures predominantly composed of antimatter. Indeed, all ghost types are highly revered by these individuals, but none so much as Giratina. Priests and Priestess are also encouraged to own at least one dragon type, to help connect them to the dragon aspects of their Lord Giratina.


Scientists


Lab workers who have chosen a more intellectual path in order to obtain the answers they seek, the scientists under Ashleigh’s watchful eye are some of the best in the world when it comes to research into ghost-type phenomena and the complex, mysterious relationship between matter and antimatter. Scientists are encouraged to have at least two ghost-types on their team (and required to have at least one), but also to keep Pokemon that can serve as assistants in the laboratory.


Undifferentiated


Some may mistake the Undifferentiated (known as Undiffs by the organization) as being members who cannot make up their minds, or who are uncertain of their path… but nothing could be farther from the truth. Undifferentiated members serve as wild cards, each with their own unique talents and perspectives. From janitors to assassins to politicians who have secretly sworn their loyalty to the Eternals, the Undifferentiated are considered the most dangerous members of the organization, because outsiders cannot predict what teams that they have or what talents helped them earn their membership. Undifferentiated members are a concept introduced by Seth, and indeed his “faces” comprise a large percentage of these members, though it is unknown how many other identities aside from his are working in as Undiffs for the group. Undiffs embody the mysterious, ever-shifting nature of the Distortion World, and their jobs, no matter how small, are integral to the survival of the Eternals.

Last edited by Marion Ette; 04-28-2013 at 01:19 AM.
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Old 05-09-2013, 07:56 PM   #9
Marion Ette
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Remember Me.

When the letter arrived in Marion's mailbox, Aislyn's golden-furred head lifted towards it, her ruby eyes darkening with an ominous sense. It was the second time this week that the mail had filled her with a sense of dread, and the Ninetales could not help but feel that this was more than just coincidence. Intuitively making her way over to Marion to comfort her, Marion finds herself distressed merely by the look in Aislyn's eyes... It was never good when Aislyn inexplicably became so supportive and comforting, because the inexplicable often became terribly, terribly explicable soon after.

Sure enough, Murmur had taken the initiative to float out the window and pick up the mail for Marion, setting the letters from friends and various bills on the table. One letter in particular stood out to Marion, particularly given that the first line of the return address referred to the Fizzytopian Police. Oh, Lord, What did my Pokemon do now, Marion mutters to herself as she opens the letter. She is somewhat surprised by the mention of the name Minerva, which she herself had not heard in months; it was as if Coselle's presence had nearly erased Minerva's altogether in Marion's mind, and it shocked her to see the name again in print:

Quote:
Dear Miss Ette,

It is our duty to inform you that your Banette, nicknamed Minerva, has been captured and detained at the Pokemon Detention Center until provided with the appropriate, court-mandated treatment. She has been charged with Assault with Intent to Murder on your behalf and on behalf of Keith Masters. In addition, it has been discovered that she has been engaging in the illicit use of a Roggenrola Core for the purposes of masquerading as a human, which violates the Human Mimicry Limitations Act. The core has been forcibly extracted in accordance with the law, and will be returned to the appropriate gravesite.

As per the defendant's request, an assessment has been performed by an individual who is intimately familiar with Banette psychology. As her trainer, it is required by law that you are provided the summary of this assessment:

Minerva has been assessed as having a healthy desire for vengeance and retribution and a generally positive relationship with her trainer, though this relationship has been strained by recent events. It has also been discovered that her relationship with one of her intended victims, Keith Masters, may have been psychologically detrimental to both parties, and could partially explain the events that transpired on 10/31/12. We believe that indefinite imprisonment would be unethical in this case, as Minerva has been identified through intelligence testing as having human-level cognition and perception in the superior range; in addition, it is not my belief that a Banette should be imprisoned for acting in a manner that suits her species. What concerns me are the feelings of deep affection which, I believe, have driven her to insanity. Given her emotional state, returning her to her trainer as-is would also be decidedly unwise.

It is the opinion of this psychologist that she is taken to the Psychic Healing Clinic and given a partial memory wipe, encompassing the previous year before erasure. It is the belief of everyone involved that this wipe will bring peace of mind back to this formerly healthy Banette. It is always our intent to return problem Pokemon to their trainers, and the team believes that this is the most efficient, least damaging way to accomplish this goal.


The Pokecourt has accepted Minerva's plea of NGI with the caveat that she undergo treatment. The advised treatment is scheduled to be performed on 5/9/13 at 12:00 AM FBT (Fizzy Bubbles Time). Minerva will then be available to be picked up by you on 5/11/13 at 7:00 AM FBT, after the patient is allowed time to recover from the procedure.

Please call the number below if you have any questions.

The FBPD Pokemon Detention Facility
Attached to the letter is a pamphlet explaining various aspects of Memory Erasure (ironically given the acronym ME) and how to proceed with a Pokemon who has been given this procedure. According to the pamphlet, the procedure was so foolproof that Pokemon could be exposed to all sorts of people, places and objects both directly and indirectly related to erasure without the fear of memories being retriggered. To Marion, it seemed far too effective to be real... And yet, none of it seemed real to her. The tone of the letter, so formal and detached, seemed altogether distant and unbelievable. Marion's mind could barely even wrap around the implications of what this form letter communicated.

Marion lets the letter fall from her hands and into the eager Bedivere's tentacles; as the Frillish reads the letter with his unfailing, unflinching smile in Frillish language, Marion watches as the expressions of her other Pokemon reflect their concern and apprehension. Some even appeared downright panicked. They feared that Minerva would forget important times they shared together... or in many cases, completely forget that they had ever existed. So many members of Marion's team had only just arrived within the past year, and for Minerva to forget them... Many, like Marion, had a hard time fathoming it.

As her Pokemon adamantly discuss this new development, Marion remains silent, mulling it over and over again in her head. She wondered if Keith knew what had happened. Hell, she wondered if anyone knew... How would she explain to others what went on with Minerva if Minerva herself could not remember? How would Minerva deal with all the friends she had made... All the experiences she had... that were now utterly gone? All vanished. An entire year, deleted from Minerva's mind. It was hard for Marion to even remember what she was doing last year… Did she have Sakura yet? Would Minerva remember Balmund? How would she cope with the fact that her baby sister was dating if she couldn’t remember who the person was? How would she cope with the fact that Marion knew that she was Minerva’s baby sister? All these thoughts swirl around in Marion’s mind, hurting her head.

For the next two nights, Marion was unable to sleep, thinking about Minerva and how she would deal with this latest trial. Finally, on the morning of the 11th, August volunteered to fly Marion to the clinic in order to pick up their partner. The gentle giant pats Marion on the shoulder and gives her a meaningful look before lowering herself to all fours, allowing Marion to climb on before extending her wings and lifting off. Given August’s strength and speed, the journey is not a terribly long one, but Marion would have plenty of time to meditate nervously on the current situation while sitting with August in the waiting room… Being on time, of course, meant waiting at least 30 minutes when dealing with any sort of office, particularly if it happened to be run by the government. Filling out the necessary paperwork in an itchy, run-down woodback chair with an awful floral print on the padding, Marion grimaces at the ancient magazines and overly placid paintings of landscapes and beaches dotting the walls. It was not the ideal place to come face to face with her Banette again, but at least it would be an opportunity to start fresh with her. After all, if a year’s worth of memory had been erased, then she wasn’t the same Banette that had performed the unforgivable actions that had caused Marion to stop speaking to her in the first place… Right? One of the many thoughts that kept her up at night…

After completing the appropriate forms and handing them to the disinterested secretary behind the glass, she sat beside August, who was amusing herself by trying to balance as many magazines on her head as possible. Giving her trainer an intentionally dopey grin as she balances a stack of 10 magazines precariously with her antennae, Marion cannot help but laugh with her Dragonite, despite the stern look that the secretary gives them both. Ignoring the judgmental gaze, the pair entertain themselves as best they can, before the sound of the office door opening stuns them both into silence.

The pair are met by the irritated gaze of a very familiar Pokemon. Looking around the office with intense yellow eyes, the Banette’s zippered mouth curls into a smirk.

“This place smells like old peo-ple,” she comments, before her eyes turn to Marion and August. “So… you are here to pick me up, are yoooou? Good. I have had my fill of this aw-ful mad-house. And for MEEE to call it mad…” Minerva’s head tilts at an unnatural angle as she cackles maniacally. “It must be po-si-tive-ly BON-KERS in here.”

“Minerva!!” Marion, unable to help herself, runs up to her old friend and dear sister, giving her a big hug. Minerva returns the embrace silently; though she had forgotten a lot of things, her love for her sister remained the same.

“I am told that my me-mo-ry has been e-rased in or-der to ab-solve me from my crimessss? Oooooo, I just can-not i-ma-gine what I could have done.” Minerva giggles gleefully, her mind full of all sorts of terrible acts of violence. She grins with an inspired insanity at her sister, hoping to be regaled with tales of unspeakable terror. “Is it e-nough to earn my own made-for-TV mo-vie? I can seeeeee it now, ehehehe~"

“Minerva…” Marion gives her Pokemon a gentle smile. “I think, before we do anything, you and I should take a walk together and… you know… talk awhile.”

“We have a lot to talk a-bout, do we not?” Minerva smirks. “Ve-ry well. Let us take a walk, then. More of a float, in my case… Can you i-ma-gine? Me, wal-king on those aw-ful flesh-legs you hu-mans have. Dis-gus-ting.”

Marion does everything in her power not to turn pale at the remark, and attempts to laugh in response to Minerva’s dark humor. “Heh, yeah… I guess that would be hard to believe.” Marion pauses. “Say, Minerva…”

“Yes, Ma-ry?”

“Do, uh… do you remember being in love?”

“In love?” Coselle makes a face. “I should say not. What a sil-ly ques-tion. I sup-pose I should have ex-pect-ed such from a sil-ly girl like you.” Though Minerva smiles, her eyes flicker with the slightest bit of hesitation and sorrow. “In love… No. No, I do not re-mem-ber at all.”

Last edited by Marion Ette; 05-09-2013 at 08:19 PM.
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Old 08-02-2013, 05:15 PM   #10
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The Heart of Guinevere

In the silent, darkened living room of Marion's treetop cottage, the soft click of a television remote jolts the screen to life, which casts its illumination over a small, pink figure. The floating spectre looks left and right furtively for a few moments before unceremoniously collapsing into the comfy chair in front of the television, tentacles piled in a heap as her head rests heavily against the back cushion. A single pink tentacle aims the remote at the VCR and presses the "play" button. The Frillish briefly considers fast-forwarding the ancient movie previews and FBI warnings, but even the simple act of pressing another button seems like too much effort in the exhausted Frillish's mind. It was true that her "brother", the distinguished Lord Bedivere, had invested great time and effort in ensuring that her extensive, five-week stay at the Beauty Salon would be tailored specifically to her needs as a young ghost type learning the finer points of etiquette. It was also true that she herself was eager to become as dignified as her beloved mentor and to show her improvements off to potential suitors, once all was said and done... but secretly, she anxiously awaited Sunday evening, when she would be able to return to her trainer's home for a brief rest before another week of intensive treatments and training.

This is altogether not fair, the Frillish thinks to herself with a sour expression as the previews roll on, and she reflects on the day's instruction on dance and graceful movement. I am supposed to be a spirit of the night, a tragically beautiful figure - or was it beautifully tragic? I can never remember how Lady Araxie phrases it - mourning the loss of her connection to the earth with her ethereal, graceful body, unchained an uninhibited by the confines of the flesh... and yet I feel exhausted!! How disconnected can I be if every inch of me aches? How dead can I be if I feel this kind of pain? I swear, if Lady Araxie had asked me for one more weightless pirouette, I would have ripped that awful Jellicent's face off... A small smirk creeps across the Frillish's face as she envisions the gristly deed being performed with the utmost of precision and efficiency, complete with a shriek of, Am I graceful NOW, bitch?! at the top of the Frillish's lungs. The smirk quickly melts into a nervous expression, however, as she thinks of how Lord Bedivere would react to such an action. It would be decidedly unladylike! Such thoughts should be avoided at all costs! Keep it together, Nimiane, she admonishes herself, as the word "OVERTURE" in red, stylized letters appears on the screen, and triumphant orchestral music fills the living room. The music gradually transports Nimiane to a more relaxed, dreamlike state of mind, and the soft, melodic chanting of Guinevere.... Guinevere... fills her heart with a feeling of longing.

As the musical unfolds, Nimiane's posture changes from a heap of exhaustion to gradually positioning herself on the edge of her seat, her eyes glittering with delight every time King Arthur came on screen. A brilliant, handsome, wise King, who seeks to only enact might for right... He was everything Nimiane dreamed of in a man, and more. He was perfection itself. The ghostly being cannot help but feel a pang of jealousy towards the beautiful Guinevere, who had married a man of such power, influence and breeding... It was enough to fill her with determination to continue her studies, aching be damned! She would become like Lady Guinevere if it killed her... Well, if it were possible for her to die again, at any rate. And yet... as the movie progressed, Lady Guinevere finds her heart swayed by the French knight Lancelot. Her wandering eyes confuse and enrage Nimiane, who begins mentally admonishing the image of Guinevere through the television... an admonishment which seamlessly transitions into verbal shouting. "What are you doing?? You're married to a king!! What are you doing with a damn knight when you already have the most powerful man in the Kingdom?? ARE YOU INSANE?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU? WHY LANCELOT?!"

"It is the ac-cent, I be-lieve. I am told that ac-cents have quite the... se-duc-tive po-wer. Is it not sooo?" An eerie voice rings out from behind Nimiane, who startles at the sound.

"Minerva! I forgot that you're-"

"An in-sssom-ni-ac. Of coursse, dear. And you? You do not ap-pear to be sleep-inggg, ei-ther..." Minerva cackles. "Is THIS part of your train-ingg, then? Wat-ching Ca-me-lott? You re-al-ize that Va-nes-sa Red-grave is not a REAL Queen, do you not? Or are you as in-sane as your dearrr bro-ther?"

"You take that back, Minerva," Nimiane hisses under her breath.

"Is it not MIS-TRESS Min-er-va?" Minerva corrects with a wide grin, much to Nimiane's irritation.

"I apologize, MIS-TRESS Minerva..." Nimiane provides a sarcastic curtsy to accompany her insincere apology. "Lord Bedivere's mind is... unique, to be sure, but he is not a madman! I do not not know how you can call a creature of his kindness and his generosity mad... Or is selfishness the only manner of sanity you know?"

"Such back-talkk! And from a la-dyyy? Per-haps I should tell Be-di-vere of your in-so-lenccce..." Minerva smirks. It was a threat that normally had the lady Frillish cowering and returning to her veneer of politeness and decorum incredibly quickly... but Minerva apparently had pushed too far.

"Go ahead!" Nimiane retorts with a defiant glare in her eye. "You can even tell him that I refuse to call you Mistress anymore! You're nobody's Mistress, MINERVA. All you do is order Lord Bedivere around all day, and with NO respect! 'Be-di, pour my ab-sinthe!' 'Be-di, clean the wine out of my cot-ton!' Yet what have you done for him, huh? NOTHING!" Nimiane's tentacles curl up with rage as her voice escalates higher and higher. "You're a cruel, miserable puppet who just wants everyone else to be miserable because you lost your kingdom and your crown. You're as Zubatshit crazy as they come, and yet you have the NERVE to call my brother insane? You're just a-"

"Hold on there, Prin-cess Nim-rod," Minerva says with an oddly intrigued expression. "What are you go-ing on a-bout? What king-dom? What crown?" Minerva floats toward Nimiane, her face inches away from the Frillish's, the zipper-grin wide with malice. "You know some-thing IIIII do not? We must re-me-dy thattt..."

"I-It is only what Lord Bedivere told me! I do not know anything!" Nimiane's courage falters in the face of the powerful Banette; it was one thing to endure idle threats from Minerva. It was another entirely to have her invade her personal space so thoroughly, and with such a vicious look in her eyes... Nimiane had heard the warnings about her teammate. She was not about to tempt fate now.

"What did he tell you?" Minerva coos. "What did he sayyyy?"

"Th- that he feels sorry for you..."

"Sor-ry? For meee? That sil-ly little prince-"

"It is not silly!" Nimiane snaps back, her fear overwhelmed by anger. "He says that you have lost your kingdom. That you do not remember your crown."

Minerva's eyes light up. "A king-dom, hmmm? Go on..."

"He says that there is a king in a lonely tower who longs for you. He is sorry that you have been toppled from your gilded throne in his heart, and left alone to suffer!"

The Banette's expression darkens. "Oh, is that it, then?" Minerva snorts. "More of his del-u-sions. Here I thought he might have ac-tu-al-ly told you some-thing use-ful..." The Banette narrows her eyes. "And as for you... I know of no me-die-val prin-ces-ses that know in-tu-i-tive-ly how to op-er-ate a V-C-R or use the term Zu-bat-shit. You were not a prin-cess when you died... were you?" Minerva grins. "Were you... oh, thought of thoughts... were you a COM-MON girl? Oh, you have a prin-cess form, but you need so much train-ing... All things that came nat-ur-al-ly to Be-di-vere... Why? Whyyyy, my dearrr?" Minerva cackles harshly. "It is be-cause you are a fraud."

"That's not TRUE, Minerva! You're just trying to-"

"I feel your ner-vous-ness when he ex-tolls your bree-ding! When he com-ments that you must have been the most beau-ti-ful girl in the king-dom where you lived, that lit-tllle nod you give him, that ner-vous smilleee... I see it. I feed on it, you daft lit-tlle fool! I know that you are ly-ing. I know that your whole AF-TER-LIFE is a mis-er-a-ble lie!" Tears stream down the Frillish's face as Minerva cackles. "Be grate-ful for your bro-ther's in-san-ity! He can-not see through it, but I do. You are no-thing but a com-mon Po-ke-mon, re-born from a com-mon girlll." Minerva snorts. "Best you re-mem-ber thatt and stop act-ing like a spoiled prin-cess a-round me."

Minerva floats toward the couch to resume her knitting, but as she tries to work, the sound of the sobbing Frillish eventually begins to grate on the puppet's nerves. Sighing, she turns to Nimiane. "Oh, come now. Be-di-vere will ne-ver know the truth. E-ven if I told him, he would not be-lieve me."

"But I remember castles, Minerva! I remember..."

"...But you do not re-mem-ber who YOU were." Minerva smirks, setting her needles down. "The mem-or-ies will come in time. Heh... I i-ma-gine you are sick of les-sons, but I have one, if you are wil-ling to lis-ten. It will help you in your stu-pid lit-tle en-dea-vor... what, fin-ding a prince of sorts? Mar-ry-ing in-to pow-er? That is what you are look-ing to do, is it not?"

"...Go on," Nimiane says incredulously, wiping her tears as she turns to Minerva, who positions herself as if about to impart some great nugget of wisdom.

"You seem to think that love is some kind of game," Minerva begins. "You seem to think that with e-nough les-sons, you can cap-ture a king as if play-ing chesss."

"But there is strategy in seduction, Minerva! With enough training-"

"Oh, you think the prob-lem is in your strat-e-gy?" Minerva cackles. "No. The prob-lem is with YOU, lit-tle Guin-e-vere. You think you can sim-ply pick who you will choose to love? That your heart will ne-ver wan-der? That all it takes is a cas-tle and some mon-ey to earn your heart's loy-al-ty?"

Nimiane pauses for a moment, thinking back to Guinevere and Lancelot. "But Minerva, how could a lady forsake her king for a mere knight? How could you give that all up? It makes no sense..."

"You will un-der-stand some-day," Minerva finally says. "The de-sires of the mind and heart are rare-ly e-ver a-ligned. What makes no sense... What is dan-ger-ous and ir-ra-tion-al... Love may seek it out. Love of-ten does. If your knight comes knock-ing... It does not mat-ter what king-dom you may have in-her-it-ed. You will an-swer the call. Take it from me... I used to be a prin-cess, af-ter all. Is that not what Be-di-vere said?" Minerva cackles darkly, as Nimiane tilts her head.

"But you don't remember anything, do you?" Nimiane questions.

"I re-mem-ber cast-les." Minerva mockingly responds, though her voice carries a strange sort of weight. "Now go to sleep, lit-tle Prin-cess... busy day to-mor-row, hmmmmm?"

Nimiane nods reluctantly and retires to the bedroom. As soon as Minerva is assured of her departure, Minerva reaches deep into her knitting bag; saved there were a precious few dolls that had survived Marion's purging, which had been hidden away for reasons Minerva could not remember. A man about Marion's age and his Seviper. A Stunfisk who had clearly been stabbed repeatedly with needles. Three Shuppet, a male and two females, who had been lovingly crafted, as if cared for deeply... and a man with a cowboy hat. Minerva picks up this doll with extra care, turning it over in her cloth hand, before finally setting it down with a sigh and putting the dolls away.
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Old 10-02-2013, 01:00 AM   #11
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THE ADVENTURES OF DRAKE MAN AND HIS SIDEKICK, THE TACO TIME TACO TRUCK!

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Originally Posted by Balmund View Post
Bound against her will, a lavender-haired damsel in distress struggles against an insane mob and the sick mad cow behind it all, trying in vain to stop the forced trade of her newly acquired female Shuppet. A gift originally meant for her boyfriend Balmund, now shamelessly usurped by a rotund Hiker. How would he react if he saw this right now? Would anyone please stop this utter madness!

With the Pokéball inching ever closer to the trading machine, it was as if time would ever progressively slow down to a halt. Minutes, hours, days, MONTHS. The wait for some sort of resolution, felt both anguishing, and bloody eternal. Perhaps, it was not meant to be after all...

"NOT SO FAST!" A comanding voice boomed throughout the entire trading post. Up there! A shadow hanging from ceiling wall. Man? Monster? Ghost?

"DRRRRRAAAAKE MAAAAAANNNN!"

The mysterious black and cloaked figure takes a dive, spinning like a mad top amidst a sudden and inexplicaple display of fireworks and confetti. "EVIL! WILL! NOT! STAND! A CHANCE!" He chants, landing with a disabling roundhouse kick on the chubby, bearded assailant.

"Git 'im!" The mob breaks out of its utter state of disbelief. Whoever this guy was, he had to be stopped! The curse! A fear of a fate worse than death awaited them should they fail. He was but one, and they were many! The odds were on their favor. Their faces of determination soon turned to shock and horror however, as an even larger figure bursted out of the concrete walls. Is that a... friggin TACO TRUCK?!

Man and Pokémon alike hastily make way as the man of drakes nimbly lunges himself into the airborne, grease-smelling vehicle. The metal beast lands rearside, sparks flying as its motor engine roared ferociously, and it dashes towards the captive Ghost Trainer and floating, bodyless specter. Synchronized blasts of multicolored towers of smoke erupted from the ground, trailing neatly behind the tortilla and steel behemoth, right before it suddenly lifted itself from the ground, performing a grand total of four backflips minus one as it flew overhead its target, crashing out the club's domains through a window.

"TATSUMAKI SENPUKYAKU!" Drake Man screams as he falls amidst the group, a whirlwind of kicks remodels the faces of all but Marion's, who somehow remained perfectly unscathed. He then proceeds to embrace her gently, but firm, before dropping a decoy - a Clefairy Doll of Absolute Adorableness - to allow for his perfect escape. A well aimed hookshot through the already destructed wall, and both Drake Man was gone just as quickly as he arrived, along with Marion.

Landing into safety, the unreadable masked man looks into the pale, but remarkably beautiful woman's face. "Fear not! I will ensure this creature reaches its new and rightful owner. For now... DRAAAAAKE MAAAAAN GOOOOOO!!!!" He vanishes in a flash, flying into the horizon upon what looked like a prehistoric Aerodactyl. Who was this man, and would Marion ever see him again? One thing was for certain, as Marion looked down into the four Rare Candies that mysteriously appeared on the palms of her hand, it was clear that the trade had been completed.

(In other words, finally trading my 4 Rare Candies for Marion's Lv.1 Female Shuppet. Thanks!

*TRADE CLOSED*)
The zenith of Marion's distress seemed to extend for months on end in the trainer's mind, despite the few short moments in which she hopelessly watched the crowd attempt to trade away her Shuppet to the misguided hiker... But where was Duke in all of this? Had he forgotten about the trade? Forgotten about her? Had Minerva stalled him using one of her dirty tricks? With no sign of her lover, it seemed as if all hope of completing the trade was lost... but wait! LOOK! UP IN THE SKY! IT'S A PIDGEOT! IT'S A TOGEKISS! IT'S...

DRAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!

Marion observes the surreal scene in a complete state of shock. A masked superhero straight out of a comic book mysteriously bursts onto the scene, complete with the triumphant announcement of his own name (as if he were a Pokemon) and follows it up with a short, cliched, yet emphatic speech that evil will not stand a chan- wait, did he just roundhouse kick that guy? Was this even happening? Was she in some kind of dream? The situation in the Cable Club was already tenuously connected to reality at best, but now, things had descended into a whole new level of madness. From cow heads to superheroes... Could things get any more strange?

As if Marion's concept of reality was not crumbling enough, the arrival of Drake Man is soon followed by the destructive entry of a taco truck. Marion couldn't tell if this was the same truck driven by Mr. Nose during the fateful bar incident, or another vehicle from the same company, but the Taco Time Taco Theme blared through the Cable Club as all hell broke loose and Drake Man boarded his trusty vehicle sidekick. To Marion's horror, it seemed as if the taco truck was heading directly for her. Marion had hoped for a more regal, dignified death than being hit by a truck, but it seemed as if such an ending to Marion's life on Earth was not in the cards... Bracing for impact, Marion muttered a quick prayer to Giratina. Perhaps he would welcome her soul upon arrival-

A blast of color, light and incomprehensible shouting precedes a wave of merciless destruction which bruises and disfigures Marion's captors, yet the blast leaves her completely untouched at the center of it all. It was a violent sort of magic that this man possessed, and it intrigued the pale young woman in spite of her complete and overwhelming sense of disbelief. In contrast to the rough holds of the Cable Club mob members, the ghostly trainer's body is gently pulled close to the hero, as he gathers her in an embrace, the smell of taco grease overwhelming her nostrils. It was always odd to Marion how the heroes of cartoons and storybooks could manage such incredible feats of strength and brutality, and yet achieve an equal, if not greater measure of gentleness in the very next scene. Superheroes were strange paradoxes in that way, and this one was no different. With deftness and grace of a master ninja, the masked maverick drops an adorable Clefairy doll as the perfect distraction for the Pokemon-hungry crowd. As shouts of "I'LL BID FIVE CANDIES AND MY FIRSTBORN CHILD FOR THAT CLEFAIRY" ring through the Cable Club, the backflipping taco truck and Drake Man make their escape with the lavender-haired trainer.

Landing in safety some distance away from the Cable Club, Drake Man's impenetrable gaze glances over Marion's face before making a heroic declaration of his intent to deliver the Shuppet to its rightful owner. Marion barely manages a bewildered "T-thank you" before Drake Man vanishes out of Marion's reach, making a dramatic escape on an oddly familiar Aerodactyl. Looking over the four candies in her hand, Marion wondered if this was how Lois Lane and Gwen Stacy felt after being rescued from whatever perils they found themselves in by their respective heroes... The intimately familiar, swooping in at just the right moment in the guise of a foreign, mysterious entity, to bring order and justice to an unjust and chaotic world. Marion didn't know what to make of it. Perhaps there were sides to this "Drake Man" that Marion was only beginning to understand. Perhaps there were still aspects of his character that remained as yet untouched. After all, humans are masters at wearing many masks. Where did he learn to fight like that? Where on Earth did he get the truck? How did he pull off those stunts? There was something powerfully seductive about the mystery surrounding him.

As Marion ponders what has just occurred, a blood-covered Banette floats over to Marion with a completely unreadable expression. Pausing for a moment to inspect Marion, the Banette's expression finally twists into rage as she shouts, "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT NON-SENSE?"

"I was rescued by a masked hero and his taco truck sidekick. Weren't you paying attention, Minerva?" Marion gives her Banette a sly smirk. "Don't you wonder who it might-"

"Oh, yesss. Quite the mys-ter-yyy. Ohhhh, whoooooo could it beeee?" Minerva sarcastically scratches her cloth chin, as if pondering the question with great focus and concentration. "Whooo would go to this ex-treme to-"

"To save me?" Marion blushes a bit.

"Save you? HAH. What did he save you from? A bad trade? You were ne-ver in a-ny real dan-ger, were yooou?" Minerva smirks, noting Marion's sudden confusion. Minerva was right, after all... Though the mob had been unruly, they seemed intent solely on taking over the trade, not necessarily causing any harm to her.

"Well, then why did he do it, then? Why go to all that trouble?"

"Why are you as-king meee? You know that weir-do bet-ter than IIII do. I on-ly know what I see, and what I saw was a man-i-ac-al man in a su-per-he-ro out-fit who caused ob-scene a-mounts of struc-tur-al da-mage to the Ca-ble Club and to the bo-dies and minds of o-ther pa-trons." Minerva cackles darkly. "At least I know I did what I did for the fun, and to get rid of that mi-ser-a-ble Shup-pet. But him? Who knows."

Marion looks off into the distance, attempting to sort the multitude of thoughts swirling around in her head before simply deciding to let them go. It had been an emotional rollercoaster of a month day, but in the end, Marion knew that she could always count on her hero when she needed him. It didn't matter why he came to her rescue... the fact that he did, she reasoned, was enough. Perhaps the next time she saw Duke, she would ask him if his Shuppet ever got delivered...

Last edited by Marion Ette; 10-02-2013 at 09:59 AM.
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Old 05-26-2015, 12:20 PM   #12
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Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

The years of political turmoil and economic depression had not been kind to Fizzytopia, but even without the rumors of future relief from the recession, the White Market was a veritable mecca of trade offers and bargains - the trainers hawking unneeded wares and Pokemon, the often heated bid wars, and of course, the smell of buttered popcorn, still sold at every corner of the White Market, were just as pronounced as they were upon the establishment's inception in more bountiful times. A fistful of the newly-printed Fizzytopian currency in hand, she pulls the hood of her black hoodie so that shadow conceals her eyes, adjusting her plaid miniskirt before making her way over to a rather animated display of auctioneering by a man in a cowboy hat. Animated and eager to profit after careful deliberation, his tone and insistence suggested a one-in-a-million opportunity, and certainly, he seemed to have been blessed with good fortune. A newly-hatched Zorua sits by his side, its gorgeous coat and distinctive look acting as better advertisement than anything the trainer beside it could say. The young woman's combat boots smack against the pavement with every step, loudly announcing her approach.

"I'll start the bidding at $50," the woman in a hoodie remarks in a soft, concealed voice. The man in the cowboy hat does not seem to give much of a reaction, as would be expected for a rather low starting point.

The young man beside her - how he had grown since she had seen him last, that young Jake! - is quick to counteroffer. Popcorn and biscuit-crunching trainers gather round as the two bounce bids off each other for a short while, before the woman in the hoodie matter-of-factly announces that $1000 was her maximum bid point and moves out of the fray, letting another eager trainer take her place.

Before she leaves, she shoots a glare at the trainer with the cowboy hat. Those around her might assume she was a sore loser, perhaps. As she pockets her cash, however, the Zorua was the farthest thing from her mind. That man... his countenance, his eagerness, his attitude... everything about it made her blood boil.

How soon we forget, she mutters under her breath, her twisted mind clouded with an unimaginable sort of darkness. As she leaves the White Market, her fingers toy with the blade of a pocket knife concealed in her hoodie with an eerie sort of playfulness.
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Old 01-13-2018, 08:15 PM   #13
Marion Ette
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A tall figure decisively pushes the bar door open, pausing a moment in the entryway as she gazes inside. The glare across her full-rimmed glasses, combined with the black scarf concealing her nose and mouth, obscure her expression and facial features. Adjusting a lapel on her frock coat with a black-gloved hand, she turns for a moment to observe the Stufful, hiding in her shadow. After a moment of assessment, she motions the Pokemon to take the lead.

"No crowds for now," she says - perhaps by way of assurance to the shy creature taking refuge behind her - though her voice has the consistency of ice-cold gravel. Regardless, the Stufful inches forward, making her way towards the counter, with her trainer following close behind. As the barkeep takes notice of the pink Pokemon and her brown-haired trainer, he warmly and politely requests their orders. With a far chillier bit of civility, the trainer responds,

"Water for me, thank y- Hm." She pauses, scanning the bottles, cups and wares behind the counter. "You have an espresso machine? For flavored martinis, no doubt..." The trainer snorts. "If I could have a cup of espresso, it would be much appreciated. Oh, and uh..." She pauses, taking a look back at her Pokemon for a moment, muttering to herself. "What the hell do these things drink... liquid cotton candy and melted tootsie rolls by the looks of her." She turns back to the bartender. "Something sweet for the little one, I suppose."

The trainer sits down and sighs, producing a deck of cards from her pocket. As she unsheathes the cards and practices her shuffling techniques, the Stufful curiously looks up at her trainer, jumping up on one of the stools so she can sit beside her. "I can teach you a game, if you like," the trainer offers, which inspires an overjoyed series of squeaks from her Pokemon. Her trainer continues shuffling. "Hm... You might like Speed..."

As she says this, the bartender brings out the drinks - an espresso served in a shotglass for the lady, and a brilliant orange smoothie for the Stufful. The trainer nods in acceptance and provides the bartender with some cash, muttering "keep the change" before resuming her shuffling. The Stufful takes a sip from the smoothie - and makes a face.

"Not your thing, hm? My apologies." The trainer takes the smoothie from her Pokemon, and lowers the black scarf to take a sip - gagging somewhat herself. "Good lord. How many Oompa Loompas did they bleed dry to make this?"

As the trainer reacts to the overly saccharine smoothie, the Stufful casually jumps onto the counter, helping herself to her trainer's espresso - which she downs in one gulp. The Stufful licks her lips, seeming to appreciate the bitter flavor. Upon noticing the fate of her drink, the trainer's lips quiver slightly as she moves back to standing, looming over her Pokemon - it is unclear whether she is about to laugh or scream. Her words slowly, deliberately flow forth from her lips like the ticking of a time bomb:

"The pair of balls on you, to do what you just did, must be big enough to eclipse the goddamn sun..."

Stufful looks remorseful... for a moment. That is, before her eyes widen, giving her an expression akin to an Espurr's. Her trainer swears under her breath, slams down the pack of cards, and pulls out her phone.

"Hello... yes, I have a question for you. Can you give caffeine to a Stufful?"

A long pause.

"I am asking for your medical opinion, nurse, not an ethical assessment." Pause. "Whatever's in a shot of espresso." Pause. "Oh? What side effects are you referring to?"

Another long pause, before she hangs up the phone without responding further. With a heavy sigh, she flags down the bartender.

"Sir, a bowl of water for my Pokemon, if you would... and I will be opening a tab. No, no, not for drinks... For damages. No, no, there aren't any yet, but I, uh... look, you will thank me later. Take the damn card. Thank you."

The bartender gives her a strange look, but takes the card anyway. Stufful begins to vibrate with energy, as the trainer rolls her eyes and attempts to gag down more bright orange smoothie...


---

Kijo pauses a few steps from the entryway of MaiDragonite to fully take in the spectacle. The bartender wasn't lying when he said that she wouldn't be able to miss the place - the bright pink facade stood out for miles, and the statues of Dragonite and Lopunny, captured in moments of perfect poise and elegance, practically demanded attention. Hearing a gentle "Excuse me," behind her which takes her out of her musings momentarily, she steps aside to allow a young man through with a soft grunt to acknowledge his presence. He nods in thanks, and makes his way in. The moment he steps inside, he is greeted with an adorably energetic, "Master~! Welcome home!"

Kijo takes a deep breath. Master? The whole thing seemed overly indulgent - the kind of thing her associates would be drooling over, as the desire to be waited on and adored seemed a rather common personality trait among those she ran with back home. A thought tickles in the back of her mind that maybe she was really no different, but she was in no mood to entertain that type of introspection... Besides, there were more pressing matters at hand. The Bar's espresso had been terrible, and the Nightclub's only barely passable. She'd put on a damn maid costume herself if it meant getting some good coffee, and this place came highly recommended...

Carefully letting Bia out of her Pokeball, the Stufful takes in her surroundings before immediately taking a spot in Kijo's shadow. The tall, stern-looking woman looks over her shoulder, now anticipating Bia's first response to being anywhere that required being in close proximity with others.

"You'll want decaf, won't you? No sugar?" Bia looks up at her trainer eagerly and wags her odd little tail, though she stubbornly remains behind her. Kijo turns back around, steeling herself for the upcoming interaction, before stepping into the cafe...

Last edited by Marion Ette; 01-15-2018 at 11:48 AM.
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